If our dreams are of no sanctuary, the our waking days are surely wasteland. Yet even so, as dreams are the winds of our past that swirl into the future, I long for them to last as a rock aged of eons in the sand.
If our dreams are of no sanctuary, the our waking days are surely wasteland. Yet even so, as dreams are the winds of our past that swirl into the future, I long for them to last as a rock aged of eons in the sand.