Take the vessels from my eyes for I rather not see
What this life is to be
This bloodied and emptied sea
Carried me away like debris
I'm no fool
Even the blind can see
That these lies were manufactured for me
It matters not for Life is a river of dreams
And you don't need to foresee the future
To know we're all headed downstream
YOU ARE READING
Your Lie in April
Poetry'Your Lie in April' is the third collection of mine; some lines only I and the person intended would understand that being said everything's up for interpretation it can mean something totally different to you and the next person reading which is we...
