The wind was bitter cold and biting.
The weather was bearing it's sabre gusts like the Ottoman Empire,
Scimitars unsheathed and glorious flags unfurled.
The mistrals sliced at my skin.
I held myself tightly to my jacket, my chainmail.
It was moot. I walked across the cold field of battle to the confines of neutrality.
The weather was bearing it's sabre gusts like the Ottoman Empire,
Scimitars unsheathed and glorious flags unfurled.
The mistrals sliced at my skin.
I held myself tightly to my jacket, my chainmail.
It was moot. I walked across the cold field of battle to the confines of neutrality.
4 comments:
I don't know you...but I just want to say that this photo is probably one of the best I've seen.
And thank YOU.
Chris...good stuff! Happy you joined the facebook group! I'm enjoying getting to know you through your photos! Happy photoblogging!
Kristin
this one is amamzing chris
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