Pestañas

sábado, 24 de marzo de 2012

Dust

"I see it, the time, how it's flowing;
i can't contain its spread within me,
can my hands reach its purpose?

And i see it running, leaving me behind;
thus the farthest time goes,
the darkest my hours become.

Now I guess i'm floating, just floating;
like dust taken by the wind,
and that's it, how i can see it."

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