Yesterday's solace
Out of mind, out of sight
Standing stoic, in the wrong kind of light.
Windless ceiling fans,
And vibrant shades of black
Do not look now, but there's no turning back.
While the masses read
Books with empty pages
A voiceless storm across the sky rages.
I'm probably not done writing this one. I feel like there's room for more in here. we'll see. Let me know what you think so far, I haven't heard from you guys in a while.