The flight of bird
And feather of time
That scrapes my skin
And weathers my mind
And open look
Not grave or shook
The branch, my feet
A soaked notebook
My broken virtue
I shall not take
The dancing flame
Of my emotion
To the page
A braid of sage
Is all to burn
Wash out your past
And begin to learn
My broken virtue
My broken virtue
YOU ARE READING
songs (old)
Randomim not a great lyricist... (cover photo taken by my sister, edited by yours trully)
