Spin on past, and knock me down. On the ground, is where ill bare my face. My true self without this mask. Walking past dying trees, snow falling gently on my face. Look at me then, and you shall see, there is really nothing more to me. A hollow shell, numb from his past, an empty vessel, who will just pass.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
Spin on past, and knock me down. On the ground, is where ill bare my face. My true self without this mask. Walking past dying trees, snow falling gently on my face. Look at me then, and you shall see, there is really nothing more to me. A hollow shell, numb from his past, an empty vessel, who will just pass.
