Agony
They say that Gods hands are gentle.
They say that world is a harsh place
and no one survives without God.
Well, I don't believe in God.
The winds that ramble on the plains of Terror
have edges, sharp as razor.
I bleed as I'm cut by the winds.
I'm helpless.
I have no way to go.
I'll just have to survive in this certain situation.
After surviving I've got to move on.
And look for the love for which I'm lost.
That is my only hope.
I shed no tear,
I cry no river,
none.
Only agony.
Selite:
oletus
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