*and when I wake, where will I go?
Will I follow the path of those before me?
Am I soon to fade?
Fade, like the glimmer once as bright as her eyes used to light up in photographs?*
window pane melancholy: misfortune
Her hair blew smoke ring stars into the wind, with the scent of sweet hope and reoccuring dreams.
Oh, how I long for her.
*My sweet, beautiful sunshine,
how I hope you'll be okay.
I pray that you won't dim once I have gone.*
She is my every reoccurring dream.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
*and when I wake, where will I go?
Will I follow the path of those before me?
Am I soon to fade?
Fade, like the glimmer once as bright as her eyes used to light up in photographs?*
window pane melancholy: misfortune
Her hair blew smoke ring stars into the wind, with the scent of sweet hope and reoccuring dreams.
Oh, how I long for her.
*My sweet, beautiful sunshine,
how I hope you'll be okay.
I pray that you won't dim once I have gone.*
She is my every reoccurring dream.
