We Sting With The Venom Of Pain
We Move With The Sound Of Death
We Breath With The Beat Of Hearts
We Live With The Fear Of Regret
We Die With The Tears Of Love
We Love With The Guilt Of Hate
We Dance With The Scorpio' Poison
We Are The Scorpion Saints
YOU ARE READING
Figure 8.
PoesíaI Figured If I Did This. I Could Figure Out Whats Next. My Fingers Dance The Figure 8. Thats How I'll Start This Mess.
