It'll be alright
Everything will be just fine
Tell me these silly lies
Don't look into my eyes
Alive but dead from inside
Mask falls off in time
Tell me to hold on
And I'll till you're gone
When it's midnight
All my strength runs out
What left is just a frail heart
And a soul with some cracks and scars
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryPetrichor (/ˈpɛtrɪkɔːr/) is the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil. The word is constructed from Greek petra (πέτρα), "rock", or petros (πέτρος), "stone", and īchōr (ἰχώρ), the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythol...
