Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
Inside these halls the walls are bare the paint has long dried and faded with no sign of it being fixed
Inside these calls the times are harsh the wood has chipped and splintered with no hope of it being replaced
Inside my mind the corners has rounded and the crumbs has laid down trying to arrange an image of what is supposed to be my future
Inside these halls I watched time weather all my memories as the paint dries and fade in the house I grew up in
Inside these calls I stared at the frames hung on the mantle of what used to be our home as the wood has chipped and splintered taking with it the glow of youth
Inside my mind I watched my words twist into grotesque features reminiscent of death and rot as I tackle rounded corners and pick up the crumbs of what can be my future but isn't through time and circumstance
Inside my house inside my soul inside myself I watched time go by until it stops and it's time to go home
