Silence,
Followed by the lulls of the wind.
Where one would have the blessed sleep,
Here I am,
Strained, tired, feel like a sack of meat,
It is strange though,
to have never felt this peace before,
as you are shrouded by the darkness,
yet like a firefly, live during it,
but sadly, die during the day.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
Silence,
Followed by the lulls of the wind.
Where one would have the blessed sleep,
Here I am,
Strained, tired, feel like a sack of meat,
It is strange though,
to have never felt this peace before,
as you are shrouded by the darkness,
yet like a firefly, live during it,
but sadly, die during the day.
