Warmth is that spark,That paints in black,The ghostly surface, Heating my solace.
Étiquette : Poem
Rolling on water
I’m taking the trainI know the train is travelling with meIt’s reassuringTo know it’s there to contain me
Dead Walking
I miss the old daysI always live in the pastIf I didn’t have a corpseI wouldn’t even believe i was realI don’t see the point of living such a lifeIt’s only creating memories to dwell in.