Delisted Wolves
Flecks of silver trickle through hostile grounds. Consigned to a footnote by the fervour of unbridled prey too quick to hunt. Defamed. Deprived. Defiled. Invisible
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Flecks of silver trickle through hostile grounds. Consigned to a footnote by the fervour of unbridled prey too quick to hunt. Defamed. Deprived. Defiled. Invisible