Justita Musrat

Are you coming to the burning tree? Where they strung up a witch - Who they say murdered three.

When I was a child, I had a family of dolls. They lived in a little white dollhouse, with a blood-red roof and blue windows.

She is the storm that shatters the silence. She is the wave that breaks against the shore. The radiance of this surreal abode lingers in his eyes.