• athena_rose 5w


    For The Poet
    The past
    Is as essential
    As the present
    Where we find
    The darkest corners
    Of our mind
    Where death calls us
    And we go
    Deep inside
    The never ending
    Abyss of masked
    Smiles that never
    Quite reach the eyes
    From there we draw
    Our deepest fears
    Our lost secrets
    And we cast
    Them upon a blank
    To be scrutinised
    We cast our souls
    Into anothers hands
    And utter a
    Secret prayer
    Because under our
    Deepest fears
    We are only hoping
    That one day
    Will see us.