Monday, 11 September 2017
You do not make an eye contact with a thing,
Even though dead men don’t tell tales.
By a mad miracle,
Poverty assaults your ego,
And your heart and guts hung hooked.
Night comes black,
And breath deserts you,
Lifeless, a corpse, just a thing!
Tongues fall quiet,
When dead men finally meet.
But anyway, dead men don’t tell tales, they are all just the same.
Baby; It is true, that I don’t know how to give up on you because I just can't do it like the way I can’t stop breathing. ...
Mama, I have seen you stand by my side, for all of my life, when my heart was torn open, when my heart bled, when my heart rejoiced. ...
My sons, Keep vigil over your blood And every day: invoke your forefathers To give you a living guide. My sons, Tomorrow y...
Source: Deviant Art Like a season gives way to another, our love came when we'd given up on asking love to come....