Tis' a wicked flower.
That sucks life.
Till its roots are withered.
Love.
They call it.
When like meets like,
The end of the world starts,
Watering,
Their little garden of skulls.
Tis' a wicked flower.
That sucks life.
Till its roots are withered.
Love.
They call it.
When like meets like,
The end of the world starts,
Watering,
Their little garden of skulls.
Fragments from my life.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear reader, thank you for being here! I just wanted to say...