• cigarettesandink 6w

    Let the scotch talk.
    its a decade old story,
    No tree lived as long as my soul
    Waiting in thrist for those eyes.

    And she came with same grace,
    red hair and same death for me.

    I smile little more everytime.
    taking her as my drink, pouring
    through my soul.
    oh! those addicted vibes.

    I live again among wild sunlights ,
    but this dream dies every night.