:/

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by carbon monoxide perfume, May 27, 2007.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. A stray set of flames were dragged to the gate;
    Stand on the embers as the ash burys us alive;
    We die to get in;

    The tears we cry, are to put out the fire that burns us alive;
    The skin peeling from my face, hides how I'm really feeling;
    Deep down wounds that will never heal;
     
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.