The night seemed to be a bright memory in my mind.
Cold winds felt like crystal daggers on my bosom.
It was the moment I would sacrifice my psyche for my people;
rose red lord was ravenous for vigor.
Laid down on scents of hell, my soul sees everlasting darkness.
YOU ARE READING
When Only Paper Can Save
PoetrySueño con un paraíso colorido, que el himno nacional sea un latido. The flag will not know bloodshed. Bad people will see what's truly up ahead. Yo quiero que el humano sea humano y que sus acciones no sean en vano. I want people to be treated e...
