(Hmm.3)A Poem by xXxCynicalWarsxXx
Ticking a born crow,
Pulsating in the morn; Run while there's hope. It's not like that was safety. Fear is holding onto omens, Retribution is just sinners Begging for last worn shirts. Where are my words? © 2013 xXxCynicalWarsxXx |
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Added on January 21, 2013 Last Updated on January 21, 2013 Author
xXxCynicalWarsxXxAboutI am only the girl you see. My mind is caves and roads of red. My heart is generous and yes, Who am I without scars? I have my secrets. I have my songs I play and sing. Mostly, I have just my in.. more..Writing
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