The wind
have no thoughts
Or dark corners
She seems to be dancing
untouched and free
So we plunge ourselves
into her silent sky
To a bath of multitude
by the summer moon
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
The wind
have no thoughts
Or dark corners
She seems to be dancing
untouched and free
So we plunge ourselves
into her silent sky
To a bath of multitude
by the summer moon