Here thee walk in daintly hyper hues,
In yonder I wonder where art thy blues,
From the Pacific to the deepest Atlantic,
There is none with such chiseled antic,
Thou art shine the light in my elements five,
Thy presence makes me feel alive ...
That which does not kill me, only postpones the inevitable.
Posted by REAL CREEPY at 7:20 PM
No comments:
Post a Comment