musings stampeding through a wretched mind, with vibrance, fleeting into a lifeless abyss
resonant memories living in a dying thought, captive to the race of existing for a moment
a slave to the rush of nevermore
aching for release by the written word
swallowed with a tick
devoured by the tock
they no longer run within grasp of their birthright
destined are the lost to the backside of the moon for evermore
K-
There are no comments, yet.
Why don’t you be the first? Come on, you know you want to!