As the silver swings
Against the tan, soft linen;
And the crimson rushes
To the white vinyl;
And the harsh cream light of the moon
Turns into a soft pale gray to pitch black --
I realize:
I exist only in oblivion.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
As the silver swings
Against the tan, soft linen;
And the crimson rushes
To the white vinyl;
And the harsh cream light of the moon
Turns into a soft pale gray to pitch black --
I realize:
I exist only in oblivion.
