To take the hand of a nurtured sun?
Warning.
It will sting, if only a little.
You may never see morning again.
Symphony symphony why are you crying?
Couldn't you play for me one last time?
The weight of a million marching men.
Triple file in red.
They wont stop for anything.
Not even women.
A wolf hunting a credulous child.
The world he brings along with him.
Beating.
A promise of immeasurable sanctity.
The demise of a feeling less savoury.
The miracle.
Here, is a considerate shift of rapture.
That it is, burning from afar.
Was her face could plunder from the sweat of his palms.
Should her hair will turn to string.
Innocent. Her lips. Dust.
Drive as the white face above sweeps the leather with it's shadows.
Big luna tweaking cheeks.
'Coz tomorrow, the never ever could have ever, ever, tasted so sweet.
And upon the corner of October, the magic certainly shall meet.
She will fall.
He will fall.
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