Jesse S. Mitchell
Automaton 1. here
And god, I hope you find me weathering the storm
All alone
Lying prone upon my bed
Underneath the day, the sleep, the death, and the sun
Not completely undone, gone to shreds, nor left for dead.
And if the distance of altogether time
Has not cut my throat
Bled me clean, made me mean,
I shall avenge, I shall remain
A subtle song upon your lips,
A little sigh, a just slip of breath.
Automaton 1. here
And god, I hope you find me weathering the storm
All alone
Lying prone upon my bed
Underneath the day, the sleep, the death, and the sun
Not completely undone, gone to shreds, nor left for dead.
And if the distance of altogether time
Has not cut my throat
Bled me clean, made me mean,
I shall avenge, I shall remain
A subtle song upon your lips,
A little sigh, a just slip of breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment