She runs, she runs wild
Through fields of solid concrete and under skies of lazy stars
Her mouth was an open gate to her beautiful mind that poured beautiful poetry late at night
Her eyes were bright and observing, collecting pictures and words forgotten in time
She was young
She was reckless
Spitting fire and breathing in the smoke
And she looked for love
She believed in it
She believed in a world full of faces
and colors
that faded together in a sky full of light
YOU ARE READING
A Metallic Death
Conto- Metal, metal don't you hurt this rose petal. To late. It's already dead -
