If I never make it out of this prison,
I'll make it a home,
paint pictures of all of you on the walls
and stare till I'm peaceful
or broken beyond repair.
If I cant break these shackles,
I'll just wear them to sleep
and dream of the life that could have been,
had I not been born
into a mighty debt.
Comfort me then sweet darkness,
my closest friend,
comfort me.
No comments:
Post a Comment