The seas were raging from the fire that was burning.
To yield the life that was waiting upon the shore,
It collapsed when laughter ceased to be no more
and filled our lungs with something old.
It gathered upon the doorsteps of the ancient wonders.
Till all the ancient wonders became no more.
And high above the cities, where many black things flew.
The images that haunt us now is the one we never knew.
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Placed in a hole, I’m waiting for a beacon to shine its light upon my hand. To look at you straight into eyes, cast down up cement memories.... -
We are the agents of despair knocking on your door. If you answer you will see a sickle and scythe, We are not malicious nor will we come af...
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Time did not stand still It shaped its road for us to leave the past To rain soaked pavements, fallen leaves, high altitudes underneath the ...
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