Down this road, I'm alone
no one sees me, no one hears me...
The sky reeks of ash,
The trees have sheltered their last leaves...
Staring at me now,
Through golden platted glass...
As i write to thee,
Pedals withstand in harmoniousness seas...
Knife is at the stake of hand ,
The blood will never spill tainted sand...
What i once held as something more,
Has now been consumed by bitter remorse...
American morality, America's nationality |
The beauty of the human experience is truly captivating only to it's degree. |
People think i'm out of control - and it's made me come to a point of understanding in which i find it ironic how i can with full experience proclaim myself actually being the one in control - and them being the ones out of THEIR control. |