• hm_ubax 23w

    [day three] untitled

    The hands of war have never marked me

    the clock of war has never struck midnight in my presence

    and the noices of death's orchestra have never met my ears

    For I was born in the land in which the soil holds dreams, whose clouds hold good fortune and rain down hope instead of bullets

    And the truth is, my reality are others dreams,

    and their realities are my darkest nightmares