The seed of my fall
was sowed when in small,
certain twist of fate,
both were working late.
Papers flew to frame you wings
while a hunger pulled my strings,
and in the blues of your gaze,
did my heaven and hell blaze.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 4:42 AM UTC
The seed of my fall
was sowed when in small,
certain twist of fate,
both were working late.
Papers flew to frame you wings
while a hunger pulled my strings,
and in the blues of your gaze,
did my heaven and hell blaze.
