Wake Norway

Black-hearted eternity is kept alive through thorough kisses of dark, dark deeds and the dead things that let them live.

When I was born, infant, new and innocent, I knew this but with time and growth and lost love I couldn't remember. Specifics simply fade, comfortable and enshrined sidelong significance and faith. Not until I died and was born anew, bloody and symbolically baby again did I swallow down the red truth. A deformity of forever, the catch.

Birth in death is a revolution that should not stand up. The potential of the lips is always willing to kill for blood and love. But what did I care?

For in life I was just a girl, just any girl, one of many.
When in death, I was made one and made only.

This Gothic story is cold and loving enough to make you forever fear winter, all while willing to tear from you your living heart.

Dettagli