Burn
09-22-2004, 05:36 AM
Weary eyes look up to see a weary sun.
What beats down upon me I should have won.
Nothing more than a tale in misery,
So the wind had said,
Binded by self regret I cannot see,
What I've strengthened, though I've bled.
What beats down upon me I should have won.
Nothing more than a tale in misery,
So the wind had said,
Binded by self regret I cannot see,
What I've strengthened, though I've bled.