a song shouts
as I run atop the tip of death,
in all its paltry fiction.
reality spins itself into one bright dream
alone, underneath infinite hope.
rain never reaches
the warmth in the windows
and darkness can't touch this dancing soul
yet
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
a song shouts
as I run atop the tip of death,
in all its paltry fiction.
reality spins itself into one bright dream
alone, underneath infinite hope.
rain never reaches
the warmth in the windows
and darkness can't touch this dancing soul
yet
i'm baaaaaccckkk
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