destilled in the vengeful tree, we sit us three, devotees to a cause that is not real, gimmicks laid forth, masks worn and torn, a memory, a lost translation of a memory, rekindling of a burden, infused, refused, was it important to forget, or insulting that we had never remembered until now? A crack through which the world can see, what we become with out its call of sanity, for in the madness, only tears are cried for hope..
The Bear Of A Burden Lost In The Morning
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One response to “The Bear Of A Burden Lost In The Morning”
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sometimes madness is the only place I find peace…
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