Aug 2013
dark bags reside,
under my forest green eyes.
the thunder is silent,
almost like a mute lion attempting to roar.
the shame is nonexistent,
and the beauty is awing.
-l.c.g.
under my forest green eyes.
the thunder is silent,
almost like a mute lion attempting to roar.
the shame is nonexistent,
and the beauty is awing.
-l.c.g.
