Alone I am alone I be, in the city of heartless dreams.
If we breathed what we speak we'd all be dead.
All along the Story you've read.
All along the way you'll see you are what you speak.
A clown will walk along the lake, and throw a rock and shatter his face.
Just to jar his ideas in his head.
An arsanist an artisan.
Speak a melody for tales untold for this is a dream only sold.
YOU ARE READING
The Meloncholy Diaries
PoetryThe Saints are misunderstood childhood friends who are seeing the world as what they want to be and through a sinners and a Christians point of view. They are all based on my creative saints. Still Ongoing though. List of the saints: Dreams Saint Ha...
