escarpTo receive poetry, fiction and non-fiction like this from escarp on your cellphone, text follow escarp to 40404.

A nation's on his shoulders, breathless at the gasp of his blades. His wrist snaps; the light shines red; a country's lungs roar.

escarp
escarp © 2009-2011
ISSN: 2153-0289
about escarp submission guidelines writer bios tumblelog comment help & faq RSS feed @ Facebook @ Twitter