What’s it to me
To fill this shape
To drink deep
into memory
Into empty existance
That turns
darkness to reality
I shall go there
To the secret paths
of sanity
As other souls
may drift away
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
What’s it to me
To fill this shape
To drink deep
into memory
Into empty existance
That turns
darkness to reality
I shall go there
To the secret paths
of sanity
As other souls
may drift away