> The Darkener's Console

There is a beautiful brass bauble here.

Firewall —

Thoughts fly
At my mind
But they die
At the firewall

I’m idle
In silence
Receiver high
But dropping the call

They keep coming
And they always will
I acknowledge, like water
Under the bridge


Categorised as: [OC] Original Content | Blogs | Esoteric Nonsense | Lyrics, Poetry



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