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Were they not reliable, the winds when they came Was it not sadness they felt, when the tribes lost a name (Amidst the rubble and ash, he vivaciously spills his cash) Was it not atonement swept across the crowd Were their heads not solemn when they bowed (A city in mourning, strategic forewarning) Did the music not play at low volumes in the eve Did the stories of the past not eventually interweave (He stands atop an empire so vast realising now that his time has passed) Do you not feel great elation that the town now lays dead Do you not thank them kindly that you were allowed to be mislead (Ah, but a story never ends with the champion merely fertilised soil for the blooming rampion)
0
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
Campanula Road, The Place I Plateaued
Were they not reliable, the winds when they came Was it not sadness they felt, when the tribes lost a name (Amidst the rubble and ash, he vivaciously spills his cash) Was it not atonement swept across the crowd Were their heads not solemn when they bowed (A city in mourning, strategic forewarning) Did the music not play at low volumes in the eve Did the stories of the past not eventually interweave (He stands atop an empire so vast realising now that his time has passed) Do you not feel great elation that the town now lays dead Do you not thank them kindly that you were allowed to be mislead (Ah, but a story never ends with the champion merely fertilised soil for the blooming rampion)
reece
Written by
English
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
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