Crimson Cranes
It is a process, yet to cease. But to be precise, it's not my way of life.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Sweet Scent of Rose
Sweet Scent of Rose
It’s hard to convey how sad I’ve become
It’s hard to convey the difficulty to breathe
That air is restricting
That sleep isn’t rest
That foods become poison
That life’s gone to rest
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