Wednesday, March 11, 2015


Diary of the broken heart
Aching soul

Fetching all the misery
From the furthest road

It is not beautiful
Blanket made of shattered glass
Stretched-out wood becomes my pillow

The pain is there
And i feel numb

Happiness also watches
But i cant reach her

What is life made of
If the composition is sour and bitter
Fire and tears
Battles and failures
Blood and deaths

So efed up

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