wicked dream

lost deeply through these tethered wings many people tell me to find the lost king through this moss no matter the cost that is not the story of a maid that shins in the morning glory admitting life short without a hero starting out with zero seven people ran all washed away in the night rain the people turn into demons creature but for some reasons the love of nature life is pure as a glacier water but for some reason it gets hotter looking at myself realizing me myself is denying life is pure don't ever wast it I wake up in the basement. One thing is true no one knows the real truth in this story except me and the demons brewing.