The leaves are on fire,
The wind tastes like ashes,
The oceans are drying
Into trenches and gashes,
Slashed across the surface
Of a dull, blunt stone
That used to be beautiful
But now, it dies alone.Read More »
The leaves are on fire,
The wind tastes like ashes,
The oceans are drying
Into trenches and gashes,
Slashed across the surface
Of a dull, blunt stone
That used to be beautiful
But now, it dies alone.Read More »