• wrecklesswriter 24w

    The sound of the clouds
    Reminds me of the bark of hounds
    Ready to leak blood to the ground
    Nature they say,
    Is governed in such a way,
    That chicken must lay,
    And ghosts be kept at bay,
    Deep down,
    I thirst to become your own,
    To pro-create on the lawn,
    Time only can blend,
    How our hearts shall mend,
    When it is love we seek to lend,
    This rain,
    Could cleanse the pain,
    Rinse us of all our disdain,
    Because we need a sun,
    To warm our skins when we run,
    We need love, hun