The crest at stake
I am not a person, I am a thought
to live is pure, to love is taught
let gentle whispers whisp and hollow faces rest
lend your eyes discreetly, lay before a fateful test
let immersed your thoughts yee playful wake
distraught before the crest at stake
let the cries of empty souls be still
let them shake their weary hearts to shape
wipe their brows of bitterness
the screaming face, a cleaner slate
I leave my burden a test of fate
I am not man, I am a state
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Posted Feb 21, 2016, 11:58 PM UTC · edited
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