TIMES THE WORDS FLOW
UNENDING
AS A RUSHING RIVER
THEY HAS NO BORDERS
THEY ARE
AS THE HARSH WINTER WIND
THAT PRESSES UNFORGIVING
AGAINST MY BACK
CLUTCHING ME
I AM
VOID OF FREEDOM
IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
AS THE WIND WHISPERS
THROUGH TALL OAK TREES
THAT STAND NAKED, AS GIANTS
THEY APPEAR
WITH THE MOON PLAYING SHADOW GAMES
TIMES THE WORDS
BALL UP INSIDE OF ME
HIDING BETWEEN
THE CREASES
OF MY SOUL
jSWEPTSON
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 3:50 AM UTC
TIMES THE WORDS FLOW
UNENDING
AS A RUSHING RIVER
THEY HAS NO BORDERS
THEY ARE
AS THE HARSH WINTER WIND
THAT PRESSES UNFORGIVING
AGAINST MY BACK
CLUTCHING ME
I AM
VOID OF FREEDOM
IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
AS THE WIND WHISPERS
THROUGH TALL OAK TREES
THAT STAND NAKED, AS GIANTS
THEY APPEAR
WITH THE MOON PLAYING SHADOW GAMES
TIMES THE WORDS
BALL UP INSIDE OF ME
HIDING BETWEEN
THE CREASES
OF MY SOUL
jSWEPTSON
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