Fanastia Finesse.

A wildflower still grows on the side of the road.
x.

Carefree travel, back in time.

To a place we never been. Something, that has always deluded us, our ways.

The original myth, just darker.

Older.

To a land, hostile, yet inviting.

Seductive, even.

A preserved memory, to the hereafter. Soothingly, seemingly, the final escape.

The dream that won't wash away, won't clear.

Starry nights, we deserve more.

Even so, just as much, adore.

God bless the dead road.

The path to ignored, blessed, infinity.

Of feeling content, at last.

And then came thee.

x.