Aug 2019
Sweeping up your streets
Up to the sea, which run at the seams
Atleast, you listen to my pain
Listen to my past, billowing meandering black
Up to the sea, which run at the seams
Atleast, you listen to my pain
Listen to my past, billowing meandering black
The ghost of the past, are something we repose on. Appreciate life as it has been given, you might be able to take it if it leaves you.
