Death was rung in by the bell's harmonious echoes.
She was struck upon nine times before the evening fell silent.
In my solitude, I can still hear the tolling of the bell out near the horizon,
Where night and day touch.
Creating luminous purples, and ominous oranges.
She was struck upon nine times before the evening fell silent.
In my solitude, I can still hear the tolling of the bell out near the horizon,
Where night and day touch.
Creating luminous purples, and ominous oranges.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Show me your LA.