Exquisitely destructive
In the wake of my perfection
That is not your bent
Do you live in the forest?
Are you trapped in the past?
Do the boughs of the forest bend for you?
They do not bend for you
The forest is mine
Witch
And I'd have you know I cauterise
The forest's paralytic spread
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment