This isn't a word,its is a vision
The main crust of a saddled soul
Its a kind gesture of uncertainty
A heart lost in the world
Standing in the center of the Bermudian
Every action being judged by precedence
Let me show you the way over lost
This vision seems blu
I cant find my way out
I denote being taking away
Its fetal and dark amidst the light
Trenton pumps my heart ablaze
Ode to the wind of the cold noon
I wish not found to you
I lost not warmth to be bitter
Life of a painter without a brush
I rush to the cardinal,astray of the wide
Do not look at me because no sight no vision
Having judged all but a path
I see a mast in thy eyes
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
This isn't a word,its is a vision
The main crust of a saddled soul
Its a kind gesture of uncertainty
A heart lost in the world
Standing in the center of the Bermudian
Every action being judged by precedence
Let me show you the way over lost
This vision seems blu
I cant find my way out
I denote being taking away
Its fetal and dark amidst the light
Trenton pumps my heart ablaze
Ode to the wind of the cold noon
I wish not found to you
I lost not warmth to be bitter
Life of a painter without a brush
I rush to the cardinal,astray of the wide
Do not look at me because no sight no vision
Having judged all but a path
I see a mast in thy eyes
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