Seldom is the solitude that digs the grave.
Subtle wings set me ablaze.
Sentenced down under dirt.
Undress these wounds.
Under the crowd of rantings.
Understanding the raw humanity.
Numb the child and seize his heart.
Nimble fingers and feeble lies.
Now comes the light, the sun.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: August 19th, 2017 05:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
The light will come, even after horrific acts occur throughout the night. Well played.
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