The hoar-spirited bushes hide and lie...
The old glacier of the ice sky
Wears the hard coffin of chill.
The moon feels cold. It becomes ill.
/The sound of a pack of wolves bite into the wind,
The snow storm roars echo throught the wild.../
© Copyright 2017 Steven Croat. All rights reserved.
Paste the link to picture in the entry below:
Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:
Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection starts and ends within the same node.
An annotation cannot contain another annotation.
There was an error uploading your file.