A shambling mess of ambitious art, who just wants acceptance, even if I can't fit in.
I am, what I am
A shambling mess of ambitious art, who just wants acceptance, even if I can't fit in.
More by Ezra Ahmed
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The Forest
I ran into the clearing, the golden sunlight near blinded me, but I had no time to appreciate its beauty, the ogre's roars and tromping footsteps were barely behind me. -
The Hole on Earth
Once there was a hole on Earth. Now, this was no ordinary hole, like one in the ground. This was a hole in reality.
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