Memories of Tashluta
Slithering vines
Rising up
Rising down
Slithering vines
Thick and taut
A firm grip
Slithering vines
A way to escape
Other's views
Slithering vines
Mirrored entangling
Blooming shade
Slithering vines
A view now distant
Withered alone
Cold Fire Blossoms
The clarion call...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.