𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖓𝕬𝖘𝖞𝖑𝖚𝖒

A golden flame still burns inside

Illuminating this soul's eventide

Rendering these demons petrified

They will never swallow your pride

These dark clouds now subside

As you brave uneven tides

A golden flame still burns inside

Illuminating this soul's eventide

From yesterday's ashes, you arise

Went through Hell to reach Paradise

You've been burned yet survived

Etch into your heart this advice

A golden flame still burns inside

🏮

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

I cast my web far and wide to see whatever it may find

Expand my horizons with no obstacles in sight

Capture my dreams to shape this new reality

For I am the weaver of my own destiny

In a world so cruel I choose to be kind

Spent my life in darkness, but all I see is light

Transmute this artistry wrapped up inside me

Let it inspire everyone to become all they believe

Spin, spin this web of fate

Orb Weaver, I'm just like you

This life is what we make

Orb Weaver, you know it's true

We're grossly underestimated,

But never unmotivated

Spin, spin this love from hate

I cast my hopes to the sky, may the winds carry them high

As creative possibilities defying earthly limitations

For I'm the Master of Illusions devouring fallacy

Threading radial paths toward golden serenity

Leaving intricate mysteries dazzling every tearful eye

Aspirations achieved through unwavering patience

Orb Weaver, teach us all to see

That we are the weavers of own destiny

Threads of fate intertwined

Offering a greater perspective

Swept inside your eventide

Quiet and introspective

Spin, spin this web of fate

Orb Weaver, we're just like you

This life is what we make

Orb Weaver, you know it's true

We're grossly underestimated,

But never unmotivated

Spin, spin this love from hate

🕷

---------------------------------------------------

Lyrics : © Obsidian_Asylum

Take the stage, turn the page as I speak with you

Rehearse these lines 'til they start feeling true

Between you and me life could've been a Technicolored dream

But you flipped the script then broke character

Things are never quite as they seem

A friend in need was a stranger who deceived

Embodying the role of a disparager

No method to your madness or so I believed

I built you up, but you let me down

You're always in sight, but never around

It's only now that I come to find

You're not who I met inside this theater of the mind

You're not who I thought you were

You're not who I thought you were

You're not bad, you're much worse

You're not who I thought you were

You're not who I thought you were

You're no blessing, just a curse

Lacking introspection, no projection when speaking with you

This is getting old, but what else is new?

I'll play my role by taking back control

As you cower behind your paper-thin walls

You'll realize this mistake when you're alone

One-sided dialogue left me feeling slighted

Bow out now as the curtain falls

I've had enough time to think and it's decided

I won't pick you up when you're down

I'll always be in sight, but never around

It's only now that I come to find

That we've never met outside this theater of the mind

You're not who I thought you were

You're not who I thought you were

You're not bad, you're much worse

You're not who I thought you were

You're not who I thought you were

You're no blessing, just a curse

---‐-----------------------------------------------------------------

Lyrics : © Obsidian_Asylum

Told me I was your reason for breathing

I opened up and gave you my heart

But it was never enough, you left me bleeding

My mind and soul were your toys to tear apart

This devil I didn't know hid behind angel wings

And a friendly smile etched across a familiar face

Dragged me along to meet your friends

Memories of their barbed words still sting

Eviscerated my inner space

To you, I was nothing, but a means to an end

Your silence spoke volumes

Complacent to their sanctimonious violence

And myopic views

How desperate you were to keep an audience

You bore your scars telling me how you were used

And apologized for their unprovoked cruelty

Convinced my hellbound heart was yours for plundering

Perpetrating this cycle of the accused being abused

A failed actress, just another wannabe

A cenobite taking delight in my sweet suffering

You bled me dry, left me asking why

Lament configuring behind my darkening eyes

Why couldn't you let this die?

Instead of adding me to your legion of demonized

---‐-----------------------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

When there's no room left in Hell

You find your way back to me

Convinced that I couldn't tell

You're a friend turned enemy

Craving your pound of flesh

Planted doubt in everyone's head

Feeding on this looming stress

Caused by these lies that you've spread

Bringing forth my apocalypse

From your bloody poisoned lips

You're nothing, but a zombie

Crawling back to me

What's dead should stay buried

In ashes and dust between us

Can't you see, you're now dead to me

A shuffling husk who killed my trust

Leaving my sanctuary a cemetery

The person I knew is just a memory

How can you act like nothing's wrong?

Vacant smile as you stand before me

Do I have to scream this song?!

Right in your brainwashed face

To snap you out of this spell

Earned your role and learned your place

Isn't it its own special kind of Hell?

Greed has left you spoiled rotten

Now you're gone and forgotten

You said we'd be forever

But it was all a lie

Sometimes dead is better

Why do you still even try?

You're nothing, but a zombie

Crawling back to me

What's dead should stay buried

In ashes and dust between us

Can't you see, you're now dead to me

A shuffling husk who killed my trust

Leaving my sanctuary a cemetery

---------------------------------------------------

Lyrics : © Obsidian_Asylum

Two souls walking home

Sparks between us lit the way

Basking in your smile

Lively laughter warmed my night

Why couldn't this be the real you?

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

Yҽʅʅσɯιʂԋ Ⴆɾσɯɳ Ⴆσԃყ

Wιƚԋ ƚԋσυʂαɳԃ ʅιɱႦʂ ʂƈυɾɾყιɳɠ

Uρ ɯαʅʅʂ ƚσ ƈҽιʅιɳɠ

---------------------------------------------------

Haiku : © Obsidian_Asylum

I've been working on this portrait

Ever since the very start.

Since then, it's become a true work of art.

There were times when it needed a new coat of paint;

Most times when I lacked the patience of a saint.

With an approaching deadline in my mind,

Sometimes I thought to forfeit.

I've been working on this portrait

Using only my blood, sweat, and tears

And it's been getting better all these years.

To make something out of nothing,

From what I can tell, it's been worth it.

"Pain makes great art."

It amazes me to create

Something that others will look upon as great.

I'll give credit where credit is due,

I got this far and it's all thanks to you.

Persistence is a great form of resistance,

Especially when it comes from the heart.

It was always a work-in-progress.

Though it seemed like chasing a mirage,

All this time, I was putting together a collage.

From the initial concept,

To final product.

Now it can be on display for all to see

What's been conveyed on this once blank canvas.

---------------------------------------------------

Lyrics : © Obsidian_Asylum

Close your eyes and focus on your breaths

Dare to dream again

When you're ready to begin, take your first steps

As a shadow, I'll guide you in conquering your bane

Where you're going, I've already been through

Listen to my voice dancing upon your divine winds

Let it soothe you 'til it suits you

Join me in this meeting of the celestial minds

Out of nowhere, hope springs internal

Heart of gold, eyes carved from jade

Life is fleeting, but we're eternal

There's no need to be afraid

You're not alone

Don't have to wage this secret war on your own

Let me set your mind at ease

Be your cool summer breeze

Trailing up your spine

Everything will be fine

Shut your eyes and count to seven

And when you open them, we'll be in Heaven

("Wake Up")

Open your eyes and tell me what it is you see

Before you exists a world of infinite possibilities

Where you can be everything you dream

In this forgotten realm of golden opportunities

Hungry ghosts fade in the rear view

As we wander each overgrown path

Rediscovering a truth you always knew

Your mercy prevails over your wrath

Hand in hand, we'll seize the day

Fall seven times to stand up eight

Please understand, come whatever may

We're the architects of our own fate

I can slay your pain

Your lips will speak my name

All killer, no filler

I will be your painkiller

Feel me coursing through your veins

Be your sunshine when it rains

Stand and deliver, make you a believer

I will be your support pillar

("One Gains, One Loses")

Let your aspirations soar to monumental heights

Build them up, then watch them multiply

Keep them framed in your crystalline sights

Like ancient monoliths kissing this saffron sky

Towering over your soul's emerald rainforest

Can't look back if you want to move forward

You always possessed the knowledge to pass this test

Virtue is its own reward

Be like water flowing in these sacred streams

What is the world?

It's not as black and white as it seems

Shed every cruelty hurled

I'll brighten your gray skies

Return every fallen star to your eyes

Because it's through our scars

We learn how we got this far

Nobody can be exactly like you

We become what we do

Never conform to what others wished you to be

For you see, perfection is standing in front of me

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quote : © Obsidian_Asylum

Face-to-face with my own worst critic...it would seem there's no escape from it no matter how far I travel.

Its grotesque face looms over, sneering at us all as it whispers hateful things at us.

One-by-one, my friends ensnared by this being's words approach the dark lake's shoreline. A sickening grin spreads across its lips, exposing jagged, yellowed teeth ready to rip them to shreds like its harsh words already did to their self-esteem.

Like hell it will!

Feverishly, I write three poems back-to-back, but I'm growing more and more lightheaded upon finishing each one. The wisps attack the beast, buying me enough time to write uninterrupted.

The first one I wrote, "The Eccedentesiast," struck the first blow against the beast, staggering it. Undeterred, my foe still stands. My friends enter the dark waters to be greeted by inky tendrils creeping up from the waters, ready to wrap around them.

My sharpened words amplified by the unwavering rhythm of my second poem, "Avenging Angel," slice through those tendrils before they can seize any of my friends. Each line I etch into the page slices deeply into the creature's slimy flesh.

It's wounded but not yet defeated. I know that there's only one way to slay it. I must take away its power... a power that it has only because I gave it. No more!

I finish the third poem, "Wormwood," that I dedicate to this towering monstrosity. By naming it, I steal back my power from it.

The creature's guttural screams fill the air as we all watch it shatter to pieces, reflective of its damaged fragile ego.

The spell has been broken, and my friends return to normal. They have no memory of what transpired, so I fill in the gaps of their memories and introduce them to the wisps.

We thank the wisps for their help before leaving for the castle. The sun is shining as birds serenade us with their cheerful songs. Though everything seems much brighter now, I still feel faint impressions of Wormwood's presence as we approach home, but not as to the extent of how it felt it previously.

I now feel it locked away inside the darkest corner of my mind. The truth is that Wormwood can never truly die because it's a part of me. And just like myself, everyone has a "Wormwood" that spoon-feeds them poison while cutting into them with sharpened words forged from their own harsh self-criticism, laying in wait for the opportune moment of self-doubt to strike...

Regardless, we're much stronger than Wormwood could ever aspire to become its sad, pathetic, joyless existence.

From this day forward, I've decided that we'll only host our Spoken Word Nights inside the castle. It seems like the much safer option...

---------------------------------------------------

Story : © Obsidian_Asylum

I can feel it all around me,

Circling and on the prowl.

That never fleeting sense of anxiety,

Craving the taste of total mind control.

Seems as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall

Right down on top of us all.

It's like the busting open of the floodgates,

Unleashing that all too familiar dread,

The kind which makes the sea turn red.

Forced now to face an excruciating fate.

If only I didn't feel like this,

I could make it stop.

Then, I wouldn't always get torn apart

By the beast that dwells inside this pessimist.

Please allow me to help explain,

Exactly as to who it is that I am.

I go by many names,

Namely four.

They call me Death, Famine, Disease, and War...

I am that dark thing which haunts your daydreams;

That uncertainty for which you can't ignore.

What pains you is that I'm what keeps you up at night,

What kills you is deep down inside, you know I'm right.

You always end up creating what you fear instead.

Oh, how I love messing with your head...

Infesting your mind,

One bit at a time.

Consuming everything,

Including your life.

Suppression from regression.

Choking on your own toxic despair

And cursing the names of everyone that brought you there.

Oppression through obsession.

Like a moth to a flame,

There is no one else to blame.

Dear child, did you ever think I would leave you alone?

You are too much fun...

We are destined to do this forever,

With me being your own personal endeavor.

Call me your blessing, your curse, your affliction...

As long as you give me power, I will continue persisting.

Epiphany...misery loves company.

To deny me is to die by me.

To name me is to take power from me.

Clarity...nervousness is poisonous.

Open your eyes to truly see,

You are your own worst enemy.

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜, 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜

𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

[𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗]

𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍

𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎'𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛

[𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎?]

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚢, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝙶𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍

𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙸'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠

𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 '𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕

𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝙽𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 "𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝙾𝚗𝚎" 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚗

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

Inside he's a quitter, but outside everyone sees a go-getter

Everything around him falls apart yet he keeps it all together

Concealing his phantom pain behind a smile if only for awhile

Hollow is this life, these lies he's forced to live in denial

Every day of his existence seems to be met with some resistance

Secretly he hopes for assistance, but makes do with his bare subsistence

No one knows how much he's cried or just how hard he's tried

To hide this side or how often he's internally died

These invisible scars transcribe his untold memoirs

Of standing too close to the edge while reaching for the stars

Slashed and burned yet he never seems to learn

Keeps going in circles, but now everything's taken a turn

Crashed and spurned, led astray by calculated misdirection

Once frostbitten, twice shy by such a cold reception

Confused and contused by a world so manufactured

Abused and used by those who left his trust fractured

He's lost sight of himself along the way, no sense of purpose or identity

Who he was then isn't who he is today because what's left of him now resides between hypocrisy and anonymity

Fake it 'til you make it, but he can't take it anymore

Heavy is the mask, cracked and worn

This syndrome is sickening, he's sick of being an imposter

Tired of playing a losing blame game, was it nature or nurture that had created this monster?

Time may tell, but today he's crawling out of the mouth of Hell

Finding his voice and dusting himself off after each time he fell

He was broken inside, but he's pieced himself back together

Having braved every storm he has weathered

Remaking himself better, faster and stronger

He'll keep pushing to keep going a little longer

'Cause every step taken now isn't a question

It's time he's faced his fears and these rejections

He's no longer easily swayed or left feeling dismayed

After finding his way to transcend the bitter and betrayed

---------------------------------------------------

Poem : © Obsidian_Asylum

A wisp swooshing past my ear awakens me from my stupor. It takes a few seconds for my mind to register everything that's happening.

I'm still standing on the rock with the treasure chest in the middle of the swamp. I glance down at my open poetry journal to see a new haiku dedicated to the will-o'-the-wisps that I have no recollection of writing.

A sharp pain radiating from my thumb and index finger steals my attention away. There's pinprick-sized wounds on both my fingers as well as some dried blood staining the Quietus Stylus' grip.

I must have experienced some form of "automatic writing" from using this strange fountain pen. The haiku's words are definitely mine, but it's bizarre how I don't remember writing it.

Splash!

I glance over at the wisps who are knocking over dead trees to form a bridge from my rock to the swamp's shoreline. The wisps appear much bigger and brighter than they did before. They gather around the edges of the felled trees and press against them to form a secure bridge that I use to cross back onto semi-solid ground.

The wisps flutter around me in a celebratory dance. However, our celebration is soon cut short when we notice rustling from the surrounding vegetation. I'm expecting whispers. Instead, I see one of my friends shoot out of the bushes at breakneck speed. I shout to her, but she runs right past us. I give chase with the wisps buzzing at my side as we all maneuver through this dense, shadowy swamp.

We've now entered a marshy clearing with a large swampy lake in its center. My friend stops at the lake's shoreline as I catch up to her. I shout her name and wave my hand in front of her face. Her dark eyes just stare blankly through me.

Before I can figure out how to rouse her from this daze, I hear more footsteps approaching us. I'm relieved and yet concerned. It's my friends, but they're all wearing the same vacant expression as if sleepwalking with their eyes open. I call out to them, but none respond to my voice.

They step towards the large blackwater lake as gurgling bubbles rise to its filthy surface. The stench of decay fills the air as the whispers become howls.

I listen to the harsh phantom voices criticizing my friends and their creativity. Of course! I know their dreadful source all too well...

The lake erupts like a volcano, sending swamp water raining down on all of us. Emerging from the blackwater is a hideous face I've only imagined in my moments of self-doubt. A wretched being I've known for decades preying upon creatives' self-worth and aspirations.

I wish I had some magical sword to vanquish this disgusting creature from the face of this earth, but I have something far mightier.

I flick open my poetry journal to a clean page while wielding the Quietus Stylus in my right hand and start writing...

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Story : © Obsidian_Asylum

🔵 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

🔵

𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

🔵

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 🔵

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Haiku : © Obsidian_Asylum