When music no longer moves me, I shall decay.
When music no longer moves me, I shall never feel again.
When music no longer moves me, I shall never sing again.
When music no longer moves me, I shall never rise again.
When music no longer moves me, my soul shall surely die.
YOU ARE READING
Constellations Of The Mind
PoetryThoughts pulled at random from the jumble of mischief I claim to be my mind.
