The drip of the ink
mocks the silent screams
that are crushed and sink
Deep down to the depths of the sea
The cold chills to the bone
that quivers the structure of my knees
It unlocks the vault filled with the stacks
Of the harbored wounds
That are beginning to make me crack.
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
The drip of the ink
mocks the silent screams
that are crushed and sink
Deep down to the depths of the sea
The cold chills to the bone
that quivers the structure of my knees
It unlocks the vault filled with the stacks
Of the harbored wounds
That are beginning to make me crack.