There are dreamers in the sunlight, away from beds of warmth. Images and wonders, a theater of possibility, performing behind the eyelids of modern troubadours.
Poets in moonlight, but actors by day, weaving fairytales of color in an age imbuing grey
Ex-lover We once swayed together With no music Now there’s another Sweet love turned sour Gangrenous odour My intestines on fire I try and extinguish with water There’s only one survivor