The streets are in distress,
the sound of screaming sounds endless.
This city is damned to repeat history,
and to prove all predictions correct.
Nothing is to be done to end the ruin.
Wet eyes just flee the unavoidable demise.
This city is haunted.
It's been told and told again that we are the fate-makers.
Been told that our story can's be writen for us.
Up until now I believed this.
Somehow through the orange glow of slow destruction has swayed me.
The crashing of memories has changed my vote.
There is no more hope nor faith,
no will or prayer left for these souls.
* Concept/inspiration from This could be anywhere by Alexisonfire
 DemonicOwlEyes · Fri May 28, 2010 @ 01:25am · 0 Comments |
