The wind slowly creeps up, and sends shivers down my back
All in the world is false
I attempt to adorn a parka, but the world seems black
All the while visibility denotes my faults
Guilt beckons me as you laugh
So, cough up validity of the day
Feel the golden wrath
And I wish I wore death upon me, so I couldn't see gray
Are you a kind soldier or a beast?
Your silver juxtaposes me nicely
I know I have not established myself as deceased
Thus, just cut me off inevitably so concisely
No comments:
Post a Comment