It’s raining glass on these acres of wood, the shards are a magnificent color of onyx and sapphire
It’s as if the winds are conducting an opera, the trees the actors as they become scarred from the shards
The shards lodge themselves in my skin, but I feel no pain, I feel no hurt
As the blackend sun begins to set on these acres, the rays illuminate me, and I shine as the salt among the oceans
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
It’s raining glass on these acres of wood, the shards are a magnificent color of onyx and sapphire
It’s as if the winds are conducting an opera, the trees the actors as they become scarred from the shards
The shards lodge themselves in my skin, but I feel no pain, I feel no hurt
As the blackend sun begins to set on these acres, the rays illuminate me, and I shine as the salt among the oceans
