Sometimes I feel dead,
as if i were laying on a snowy road,
with empty hands,
and silent eyes,
every bit of sound killed,
every word hushed away,
every color pale,
i sometimes lie here,
looking at the sky,
hoping to catch a glimpse,
of life.
as if i were laying on a snowy road,
with empty hands,
and silent eyes,
every bit of sound killed,
every word hushed away,
every color pale,
i sometimes lie here,
looking at the sky,
hoping to catch a glimpse,
of life.
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