⠀⠀⠀⠀ ･　　ﾟ･　❤︎　｡ﾟ･　　・❤︎　　ﾟ　・

The air about  her is a quiet hush, as though the world itself dare not disturb her ethereal repose. Her   orb   hold   the   pale fire  of a winter moon, casting  their cool  glow upon all  who  dare to meet their gaze. She treadeth soft and silent. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⊰ ❧ ⊱

Index (i.) ── Memoir / Soapbox / Poetry

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀W

It has been written by⠀⠀⠀be declared naught in admirer, whose pen⠀⠀⠀the  page bear claim to capture an endearing⠀⠀⠀true likeness, or words essence  o’ Winter as⠀⠀⠀of real Winter,  nor  of seen by eyes. Let it⠀⠀⠀agency she belongeth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣷⣴⡤⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢉⡟⠀⢻⣆⠉⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀ׁ⠀ ⟡⠀ Phrased by. vWinter. ׁ⠀⠀ׅ ◌

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Carte Du’ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ J o u r .