The intrusion into the cemetery was completely unintentional.
I was heading for the blooming flowers.
The cold gravestones emit a harsh white light.
Telling a story of the past
Fame and fortune are carved nakedly on them.
The fragrance of the flowers can't suppress the sleeping
And let it reach out
To touch, beat, and pull me over and over again.
As I was leaving, one of the most colorful flowers
Whispered to me with its mouth covered, blooming unintentionally
"far more unintentional than intentional.
Forgive me if I tell you, forced or willing
Forced or voluntary, the secrets of the soul.
About the Creator
I AM
This is not who I thought I would be. Before my family was captured and forced into slavery, I had aspirations of becoming a wealthy business owner or possibly a scholar and philosopher. Becoming a warrior was the furthest thing from my mind. Unfortunately, our Roman conquerors had other plans.
By Mark Gagnon2 days ago in Fiction
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