What is the weight of my hands; Or the circumference of my thoughts; A price tag on the hinterlands of my heart? What value holds What translates here, What world tongue Or currency can spare A single soul, seeking to dare To spring from Purge Oratory
The soul craves to bathe in light, But sometimes it wishes only to drift far, far away. The soul burns deliriously putting up the good fight. Those that lose themselves to the night, They grapple, crawl, bellow, and pray. The soul craves to bathe in light. But once clouds finally depart, through the
It was a welcomed mess A necessary byproduct of the insistence of seeking beauty Tired hands stained with paint Color the picture with no worries Finding comfort in its morphed depiction Willing to bear the pain of its creation A path paved by neediness is doomed to fail But I walked down that road And
I really love the outdoors, yes I very truly do With reaching bright green trees and birds that sparkle blue And expansive fields of flowers, all brand spanking new And all these things are great, they’re really truly grand But there are also creepy crawlers that can bite or lick unplanned And rain and sleet
