I have run out of passionate words to write,
The fire that once burned in my heart has been reduced to the damp bits of ash.
I don't care about the moon and stars,
And music doesn't seem the same.
I cringe at the beautiful,
And I can barely remember the person behind my name.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 2:31 PM UTC
I have run out of passionate words to write,
The fire that once burned in my heart has been reduced to the damp bits of ash.
I don't care about the moon and stars,
And music doesn't seem the same.
I cringe at the beautiful,
And I can barely remember the person behind my name.