fear strikes the heavens sturdy gait at the first mention of silence.
we live in a town of crook-eyed opposites,
a crinkle-cut reminder of which song belongs to who.
in the winding trails of the moon i see the face of a woman
destined to be clear
of all fate had to offer.
but, i wish i knew none the less.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
fear strikes the heavens sturdy gait at the first mention of silence.
we live in a town of crook-eyed opposites,
a crinkle-cut reminder of which song belongs to who.
in the winding trails of the moon i see the face of a woman
destined to be clear
of all fate had to offer.
but, i wish i knew none the less.
