Frosted Dream

On a cold winter night I stand my bare feet crunching on frozen crispy grass, I watch the shadows of trees against the starry night, whispering words that turn in to mist and gets swept away by the wind that swept through the prairie with the howl of a hundred choirs and a million melodies like a haunting of sirens across the frigid skies as my dream stay frosted in time.

By Mr Giant

Me name is Anderson A Charles. I am a writer story teller and Podcaster and Youtuber. Also played basketball in college ( that's because I am seven feet tall.

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