Thrice damned she howls like Cerberus to the nightGuarding virtues that lie like forgotten stainsOn oaken floors that pave the willow lined paths of the pastThat lead to a meadow filled with the detritus of wasted loveRotting under a forgotten sun that no longer shinesIn a heart gone cold therein lies the haste of anger.
-Neil Leckman
Select a background
More quotes by Neil Leckman
Popular Authors
A curated listing of popular authors.