A sanguine horror is plastered across the marble, its slippery sheen reflecting the brilliance of the perfect man. His flesh taunts my eyes, teasing curvaceous lines and rippling muscles that peek through the toga. Though like the others, horror creeps through the stone. Turn one way, and I see a tenderized face: Eyeless, jawless, nose-less,Continue reading “The Purest Pantheon, Dais Three”
A Powerhouse Of Creative Writing, By Thomas GB
Electrify 