Beneath the crescent moon I weep.
The blazing sun that gives me peace.
The angles who look down on hell.
The devils who curse our mortal hands.
We are bound by a certain pain.
A pain for which we are never the same.
I regret past actions but that's in the past.
But the pain I feel may always last.
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 1:23 AM UTC
Beneath the crescent moon I weep.
The blazing sun that gives me peace.
The angles who look down on hell.
The devils who curse our mortal hands.
We are bound by a certain pain.
A pain for which we are never the same.
I regret past actions but that's in the past.
But the pain I feel may always last.