I liked to imagine spirits of the past whispering to you, talking to you all the time. You just can't hear them. This ghost whispers your name as you walk a forest trail on a moonless night. You turn and nothing is there.
I liked to imagine spirits of the past whispering to you, talking to you all the time. You just can't hear them. This ghost whispers your name as you walk a forest trail on a moonless night. You turn and nothing is there.
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views
InkBlot Art https://beta.inkblot.art