Echoes start as a cross in you, Trembling noises that come to soon. Spatial movement which seems to you, Resonating your mask or feud. Hollow talking and hollow girl, Force it up from the root of pain. Never said it was good, never said it was near, Shadow rises and you are here. And then you cut; You cut it out, And everything Goes back to the beginning. Silence seizes a cluttered room, Light is shed not a breath too soon. Darkness rises in all you do, Standing and drawn across the room. Spatial movements are butterflies Shadows scatter without a fire. Theres never been bad, there has always been truth, Muted whisper of the things shell move. And then you cut; You cut it out. And everything Goes back to the beginning.
Posted on: Sun, 01 Dec 2013 16:01:00 +0000
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