TheKrumblz.com | Archive
HOME
SEARCH
ABOUT
TERMS OF USE
PRIVACY POLICY
CONTACT OPTIONS
HOME
SEARCH
ABOUT
Archive
Upper Hell
03 Dec 2021
Rejoice, my lost son. For all that is. Or was. Will be. Swallowed by the sea of time. As you. But a brief dint. To eons. Of quartz. Are consumed. Without worry. Without wares. Without sorrow. And. Forgotten.
Tags:
God
,
Heaven
,
Hell
,
INTP
,
Poetry
,
Psychology
,
Religion