i have nothing to write about anymore.
Nothing inspiring.
Nothing exciting.
Nothing to make you think.
blood brothers:
death distills the camouflage from our dance.
death inverts the red from romance.
Death x-rays the angels of chance.
death; the anti mirror of infants.
Like a picture hiding beneath the digital Avalanche.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment