Tender Delusions - IV
- LECTURAS 838
- Votos 14
- Partes 18
Born from a painful somnolence,
Where I made my bed
And I went to lay
These are the mournings of someone,
Who watched herself find solitude in disarray.
What's left of my soul lingers here,
Trapped In tender delusions
I must silence myself
just one more day.
(In progress)
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