I am unsure if we are ever free, if we ever truly know something that doesn’t feel like life
My feathers have become much weaker, and my age seems to be my foe
This shroud of dread, that rains acid across the green and gravel
The air becomes thick with fog, and I feel that quivering sickness again
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:46 AM UTC
I am unsure if we are ever free, if we ever truly know something that doesn’t feel like life
My feathers have become much weaker, and my age seems to be my foe
This shroud of dread, that rains acid across the green and gravel
The air becomes thick with fog, and I feel that quivering sickness again
