It hurts that evil is near,
with their torches
ready to burn me,
to turn my soul to ash.
I only have your book of thoughts,
that occasionally shed a tear,
to extinguish the flame
that comes with every
low beat of your heart.

February 27th, 2002 | poetic
It hurts that evil is near,
with their torches
ready to burn me,
to turn my soul to ash.
I only have your book of thoughts,
that occasionally shed a tear,
to extinguish the flame
that comes with every
low beat of your heart.