I was in the middle of fishing in the deepest part of my mind. Trying to fish the best idea among the rest. But someone disturbed me, I can't get back into my own cynosure. I lost it, and I feel the need to breath, so I need to sleep.
It is hard to look for another chance get a perfect subject. Though, an extreme fulfillment will welcome you, if you made it carefully. Yet, time will tell everything. You are oblige to follow him, no matter how hard it is.
You are just given a single bit of nanosecond. Asking you to provide, subject abruptly. Then, provide something actively.
YOU ARE READING
Blood In Our Veins
PoetryA collection of unorganized thoughts that turns out to be an unorganized piece which I don't know what to call. Everything is simply based on how I feel and how I see things in a random circumstance. As you go along with the compilations of my so-ca...
