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Young Writers Society


Burntshadow

About Burntshadow

'I bleed myself to be your drink
Is not the blood of poets-ink?'
I don't know who I'm quoting but its beautiful and its me, although don't be afraid to stop and chat, I'm not as morbid this makes me seem.


Interests

Reading, writing, painting and other art forms, TV and pinterest.


These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world.
— Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah