Pregled posta

Autumn in her flaming dress
Of orange, brown, gold fallen leaves
My mistress of the frigid night
I worship pray to on my knees

Winter's breath of filthy snow
Befrosted paths to the unknown
Have my lips turned true purple
Life is coming to an end
So says me, me wiccan friend
Nature coming full circle

I'm the green man
The green man

By Type 0 Negative