The mirror of the soul
a spectre of sepia
besides an unassuming smile.
How could we ever save ourselves
when the gold turns to silver
on parched lips we were led
to where dahlias preside
in buckets of sand,
albeit temporal
How can we ever be said to boast?
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
The mirror of the soul
a spectre of sepia
besides an unassuming smile.
How could we ever save ourselves
when the gold turns to silver
on parched lips we were led
to where dahlias preside
in buckets of sand,
albeit temporal
How can we ever be said to boast?
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