My soul is rife with decay and my body with pain
My hair is slick with sweat and smells of running
Running running what am I running from
What am I running to
Nowhere to run nowhere to hide
But I keep pace my legs burning begging for rest
But I keep on Running
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoezieIt's as deep, as I am empty. Wish I photographed the artist's name who had made this cover.
