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Published: 2011-08-10 06:18:49 +0000 UTC; Views: 269; Favourites: 9; Downloads: 3
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Description
Mocking. Fleeting. Searing. Pain.My blood washed free by falling rain
The empty moon that rises not
The sun missed out on battles fought
Grey-blue clouds howl out with glee
Their hardened rain spits down at me
My temperament - Too strong a vice
Leave my body - Cold as ice
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Comments: 1
saywhatproductions [2011-08-12 03:08:48 +0000 UTC]
D: this is a wonderful piece of literature! i'm so jealous!
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