TO BECOME

A graveyards gareden

 

There is a fence, a wall of peace

It`s bleeding for all the stinging bee`s.

 

There is a good of all the greats,

they are playing dead when knives are ledd.

 

There is more coins among the heads,

they are hiding like monsters underneath our beds.

 

There is a truth wresteling every tounge,

it`s representing all the moves that once went wrong.

 

There is a fire, too blue to burn,

It`s isolated from all you may concern.

 

There is a past in all steps made,

It`s bieting thoughts, refusing to fade.

 

(-Bella 2011)

 



XoX Bella

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