Don’t you see— I can only write dark.
The first pulse, in the midst of a whipping maelstrom,
Eternity collapses at the wheel of change. / Past is lost
August, marked with dying things. Summer’s end, / My freedom spent
Hark! / Busy work of Hands
but i can't. i cannot be bothered to find / meaning behind the faults in my father's eyes
teardrops trickling down / the valley / mingling with the static— / hollow waves of Kaptai lake
Maa, you are an endless exhibition / of sweet-sour happiness
My train just started / I found my seat / When she called me
The first pulse, in the midst of a whipping maelstrom,
Don’t you see— I can only write dark.
August, marked with dying things. Summer’s end, / My freedom spent
Eternity collapses at the wheel of change. / Past is lost
but i can't. i cannot be bothered to find / meaning behind the faults in my father's eyes
Hark! / Busy work of Hands
teardrops trickling down / the valley / mingling with the static— / hollow waves of Kaptai lake
Maa, you are an endless exhibition / of sweet-sour happiness
My train just started / I found my seat / When she called me
Was it a spectacle—filmed the whole incident? / Why didn’t you withstand? / Why didn’t you try to desist?