Broken Wings of the twitching moth
fire sun rises waking the dead from tombstone slumber'
' the grass is sharp like needles stabbing pain into my feet'
'Enhale the harsh exotic morning doom'
'Night birds flap their broken wings, have ya got a smoke for the crooner who's whistle whiskey tunes'
© Coady
' the grass is sharp like needles stabbing pain into my feet'
'Enhale the harsh exotic morning doom'
'Night birds flap their broken wings, have ya got a smoke for the crooner who's whistle whiskey tunes'
© Coady