The moon does not weary,
Bedded upon my nevermore
Longing for my evermore,
Unsettled urge
To walk along my trees
Kiss the dirt
And change the view
The sun does not jade
Distorted upon our lucidity.
The moon does not weary,
Bedded upon my nevermore
Longing for my evermore,
Unsettled urge
To walk along my trees
Kiss the dirt
And change the view
The sun does not jade
Distorted upon our lucidity.
Nice