the sorrow is moving through the viscera
the narrow way of leftovers in the shallow
the spirit of sour pink wine and the music
the music of something that’s great and amusing
the fear of life’s chronicles and its shortening
the comfort in darkness and how it is wondering
the disgust of same pain, I’m not feeling real
the guilty pleasure which takes out my will
I’m stuck in my strings of meaningless fight
While hearing cries that left far behind
My voice, though, is deaf, forbidden to scream
Eventually, finding escape in the pitiful dream.<br>valkyrie/akkosia
