I Like to Write From Time to Time
My innocence is buried within the mysterious depths of her heart
My nights are a battered mess of worldly blurs
My days are the remnants of a lost word
Resting amongst the travesties of her affection, i stumble and bleed upon my own faded reflection.
My nights are a battered mess of worldly blurs
My days are the remnants of a lost word
Resting amongst the travesties of her affection, i stumble and bleed upon my own faded reflection.