mud flows generated despair.
A misfit of intense passion and wild
Fleeing world went wrong.
He created his own universe, sheltered
Then he built a life here.
Run the reality of her shame
which is defined by years of growth.
Comments poor orphan of honor,
He thought he had enough.
Traveled as an ant hill
to seek their own space to avoid the hidden things of sighs.
Burning flesh, not the soul withers
as an empty vessel remained on the table.
He knew, however, must be.
In this world, tired, tired, emotionally unstable.
And if he is sleeping let tears escape
Untrusting eyes that blinked in pain,
He knew that the object of another
some thought to complain.
A poor orphan boy, a man is not respected,
that drifted like a leaf in summer air.
His face a mask of stone tolerated
hide his constant feeling of having come.
What would prove to be his salvation?
Oh, what purpose your life plan?
They do not know, had
the less he understood the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment