Heed to the comforts
Within the glow of plague
Compass the outskirts
With your elapsed face
Bring nothing
But a taste
Graze everything
Without a trace
Listen
To the whips of pace
To the rumble of roots
Drenched in pain.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 1:07 AM UTC
Heed to the comforts
Within the glow of plague
Compass the outskirts
With your elapsed face
Bring nothing
But a taste
Graze everything
Without a trace
Listen
To the whips of pace
To the rumble of roots
Drenched in pain.
Copyright © 2008 Aya Gare
