Give me the presence of your absence tonight,
Give me the essence of fire, not granite
Cause I can crisp in cinders than the ice in your voice
Yes, it's granite, your words are granite
I wish it was easier to fix than fight
Four chambers in my heart, one for the suitcase still unpacked,
Two, for the love and lie, getting compressed compact,
Three for the rage rustling but fake fucking act,
Four for the frivolous fuckers flipping their facts,
But one heart only hears the harrowing hiraeth
Oops! Bu görüntü içerik kurallarımıza uymuyor. Yayımlamaya devam etmek için görüntüyü kaldırmayı ya da başka bir görüntü yüklemeyi deneyin.
𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚
𝘏𝘪,
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 15-20 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳.
𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 11.00 𝘗𝘔 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 11.35 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Harrowing Hiraeth: Suicide note that I never wrote
Şiir.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・ 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗲𝘁𝗵 : longing for a home which never existed A poetry collection of obscure sorrows, of longing, solitude, nostalgia, healing and trauma. .・゜゜・:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・ ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ -> This poetry...
