Tiny sunbeams try to leak
through the cracks
Of this damaged, weathered
Emmaculately fashioned mask
The storm has passed, yet
Theres a draught in my soul
Theres nothing inside
No light will reach to shine
Where nothing can grow
where blackness resides
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Tiny sunbeams try to leak
through the cracks
Of this damaged, weathered
Emmaculately fashioned mask
The storm has passed, yet
Theres a draught in my soul
Theres nothing inside
No light will reach to shine
Where nothing can grow
where blackness resides
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