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• Artiste: Landscapes
• Titre: Cemetery
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I captured slow life and know it well like the back of my broken hands we accept our solace cloaked as friendship gripped by time and modern man, A liar holds a fractured posture that says it best when nothing at all graced in patience and blessed with fear, scratching at my door I can feel there's movement after fading grey and silence pass like a shadow losing contrast as the night crawls over last but life is surrounded by flowers in bloom, slowly dying, age is cursed and I’m trapped in a dark oak casket driven by a hearse My eyes are filled with the years of regret, I can't take back.