My first language is lying
My second is hate
My third is passion
And days of belate.
I hear the smoke
I hear the wind
I hear the forgotten songs
Sung by a twin.
Voice to fro
Far and far
Back and forth
The thought is gone.
To hell, they fly
Rising above
Notes of the angels
Delivered to none.
My first language is lying
My second is hate
My third is passion
And days of belate.
Showing posts with label understood poem language lying hate passion belate angel hell song twin smake wind far gone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label understood poem language lying hate passion belate angel hell song twin smake wind far gone. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
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