Newborn's cry echoes,
Life's path winds through hills and plains,
A man's journey starts.
About the Creator
Pratheep Kumar.K
Writing is my passion. I love creating stories from fiction, poetry, fanfiction.
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Field of the Fallen
Sunlight danced softly across the frost-crusted fields, making the little blades of grass sparkle like emeralds. The faraway chirrup of a songbird was the only disruption to the quiet of the morning. An icy chill, the last vestige of the dying winter, clung to the air, settling in a thick white mist at the far side of the open field. The heavy stench of decay hung in that mist, punctuation by the sharp tang of freshly spilled blood.
By A. J. Schoenfeld8 days ago in Fiction
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