Black of night, bluish moonlight on pale white skin,
shattered broken, dead within,
shes howling to the moon,
Imagine the cage, crystal yet soft and cloaking,
numbing senses, hiding the sting,
death always comes too soon,
The gentle rush feeds on its terrified prey
anxiety covers his way,
torn apart, shushing doom.
29-05-2009 om 00:00
geschreven door Tigana 
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- Gemiddelde waardering: 0/5 - (0 Stemmen)
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