As the sun sets
And the dark rise
Lunar rays filter through the trees
As the shadows flicker
One hears the oak groan
A distant, feeble sigh
From a thousand tired souls
And yet i paid no mind
To these softest of cries
Enveloped by the endless
Night of my demise
And the sun rises to bring the light again...
Этот текст прочитали 119 раз.