The fog is weary, I'm becoming sweaty - to indulge the drug, i'm becoming ready.
I'm the impossibility in between, better than I have dreamed.
My will is strange. Eyes Shut, I stare the glare of change.Ride the winds that implode, rip wrists and flowers that choke... Mutting everything.. Taste the reflexion into your lungs.
Subscrever:
Enviar feedback (Atom)
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário