Blood was in season, on your hands. A staged encounter mauling the clouds. Into a hare, you put the lead with a roar of gun and sun wants his share. Beneath the honours lies the guilt of a ravaged moon.
They say words are powerful, Coz they are both helpful and harmful. Kind words are inspirational, But unkind are no motivational. Words have power to inspire you, They light a spark that no one can do. Words make you cry
Achieving this dream Of words That consist of destroying My inner storm And Opening old wounds The lingering of pain As if salt was just poured Achieving this dream Would mean saying my goodbye’s To the ones I loved the
What were the lies in a truth of the buried day? Fabulous cries? Tears? It was a tremble down in the standing crop of men ready to be genetically modified. Each walk in the city exhausts you to an innocent