The night descends like a blanket on our coveted town,
The trains passing by, it's so loud.
Me and my heart, the flame glistening in the sky,
It's my signal for you, come out and let's lie.
The train leaves at eight,
We don't want to be late.
Grab my nervous hand,
Run while we still can.
We're runaways,
All we have to do is run away,
Say goodbye to the mysteries and the misery,
We're runaways, just getting away from this unholy symphony.
Time is running out,
The sand is piling, here comes that shadow of doubt,
The villains are rising.
This house is burning down,
Ashes floating to the ground.
The train leaves at eight,
We don't want to be late.
Grab my nervous hand,
Run while we still can.
We're runaways,
All we have to do is run away,
Say goodbye to the mysteries and the misery,
We're runaways, just getting away from this unholy symphony.
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PoesíaThis is my fifth poetry collection and it symbolizes something much greater than that. It shows my personal liberation. My writing style has completely rejuvenated itself and I have found myself writing about topics I was once afraid of. This is wha...
