When the battle is over
We still feel the smell of burnt paper in the air
Spare me the witness at the bottom of a cup of coffee
Leave me the word "perfume" and the stairs.
When you're only made of emptyness
There's nothing left to be torn
I've long lost my faith in the neverending rope
My wandering shame left me no children to scorn
It too, has died in the window long ago
And I'm just a clotheshanger for the cloak
Of fern and whisper in the morning
When the battles were yet to be fought.














Comments
--
All that I wanted the dreams I had before
All that I needed I've never needed more
All of my questions are answers to my sins
All of my endings waiting to begin
~AngstyWriters
--
See there! A man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace.
There's a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease.
We'll
take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it
to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.
nush cum poti sa scrii poezii asa de faine si care sa ma reprezinte in totalitate
"When you're only made of emptyness
There's nothing left to be torn"
e superba superba..daca te mai aud subestimandu'te te bat de nu te vezi
sending you my full of germs love
--
Voices tell me strike the match and burn it all to hell / Voices tell me I could watch if I promise not to tell
--
See there! A man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace.
There's a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease.
We'll
take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it
to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.
--
All that I wanted the dreams I had before
All that I needed I've never needed more
All of my questions are answers to my sins
All of my endings waiting to begin
~AngstyWriters
--
Voices tell me strike the match and burn it all to hell / Voices tell me I could watch if I promise not to tell
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