The air smelled sweet of promises
The quill wet and ready
The seat sat empty
The page lay bare
Sweet promises turn decayed expectations
Rotting delusions
Spill through quill
From self-inflicted gaping wounds
The worms seem happy
Dancing in the meat of yesterday's dreams
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
The air smelled sweet of promises
The quill wet and ready
The seat sat empty
The page lay bare
Sweet promises turn decayed expectations
Rotting delusions
Spill through quill
From self-inflicted gaping wounds
The worms seem happy
Dancing in the meat of yesterday's dreams
