On a rock, Burns red the day.
What is it you’ll carry?
What is it you'll carry, What is it you'll do?
About The Rain
There's nothing we can do about the rain. Or at least nothing that I can think to change.
Till the Dying of the Light
I'll glide across this frosted sea, I'll crush the salt between my teeth.
Severance
The roots that from the floor had been wrought, The gnarled marble that steadies against the porcelain top.
Consumed
And as I lay to rest, Your colors flash the brightest reds.
A Hope, For He
For Him I must ask, Can You hear me now?
So Burn Shall I
Is it not the life lived best that burns the brighter shine?
Pencil Towers 