Hiroshima Seven
Just a poem I wroth while listening to Hiroshima Seven.
Hope you enjoy.
Hiroshima.
Morning is a broken promise,
made by night-times dying child.
Floating down a burning river,
running trough the bleeding wild.
There's a mirror telling lie's,
it's voice a teardrop's waterfall.
Rose's tell decaying truths,
growing wild to cower all.
Bleeding houses screaming murder,
when no one se, and no one hear.
Crying children hide from darkness,
yet it is the light they fear.
So, did you like it? And yes I know I have issues. ;).
Hope you enjoy.
Hiroshima.
Morning is a broken promise,
made by night-times dying child.
Floating down a burning river,
running trough the bleeding wild.
There's a mirror telling lie's,
it's voice a teardrop's waterfall.
Rose's tell decaying truths,
growing wild to cower all.
Bleeding houses screaming murder,
when no one se, and no one hear.
Crying children hide from darkness,
yet it is the light they fear.
So, did you like it? And yes I know I have issues. ;).