When your all twisted and tangled, like
thorns in a patch, stuck in a childs game,
looking for a match. Dreadful soul of ambition, locked inside your shell, a long evil story, but no one left to tell.
You see the truth in listening, but blind
to the sound, eyes are key to the soul, the
shell will never be found. Voices in your head, cant fathom whether good or bad,
deadly outcome of the voice, leaves us
rather sad. When you run through that patch, thorns that cut deep, all the pain in
those thoughts, starts with worldly sleep.
veeplee1
©veeplee1
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