Fincayra is a mist veiled land
Full of people, but no bands
Fincayra is not found
It also isn't where you're bound
This place is not on your head
It is not to be found under your bed
It isn't a place that's always near
It is not made purely of fear
Fincayra's location is not always clear
In many a heart it's not held dear
YOU ARE READING
poems
Randompoems by me. Try not to judge too harshly some of these were made at 13-14 years old. The new-ish ones start at "scars inside" so, um... enjoy?
