Buried in delusion
languishing in despair
the fallen angels cry
the clear path uncharted
leaves and dense brush cloud trail
I follow in silence
come in Technicolor, my leaf and debris strewn path is for swift kickings. I followed until I was eleven. Clarity is subjective. Thoughtful. ~S~
I've been accused of living in my own world. Well I created it. I might as well live in it.
My Delusions
come in Technicolor, my leaf and debris strewn path is for swift kickings. I followed until I was eleven. Clarity is subjective. Thoughtful. ~S~
I've been accused of living
I've been accused of living in my own world. Well I created it. I might as well live in it.