my dystopian dictatorship

This is the lake where a princess wept as she turned into a swan. This is the lake where a knight returned a dead king’s sword to its maker. This is the lake where Gerda held fast to Kay and melted the splinter in his heart.

This is the lake that heard the bells of the White Witch’s sleigh and braced itself for winter.

This is the lake that glistens and lures little girls in the moonlight, while wolves watch from the banks.  

magicalnaturetour:

Evening Snow by Philippe Sainte-Laudy on Flickr