Baring your soul to something it miss.
The reality of not really being there,
make way to the dark cloudy days.
When you want something that isn't here.
The existence of everything and nothing the same.
Comatose state of mind that don't want to release,
from the stage of nothing.
This is when the sky will open.
This is when the ground will dry.
This is when the light will shine.
This is when I will cry.
No comments:
Post a Comment