#1
holding clear cantines to moonlite
searching for impurities
they've sliped salutions before
for this thirst to be my last

searching for the strength im lacking
in the hearts of weak men
blood driven machines
starting like forest fires

trying not to cough
and reveal the whereabouts
of my location

if we reap what we sow
i fear next harvest
for i am just a modest farmer
sitting on a half-acre of hell

falling from the sky
chasing adjacent rock formations
grasping branchs on the way down,
now im out on a limb
i havent eaten in weeks
and whats so wrong with an apple?


i know i have up'ed a song by this name before
but its pretty much all re-written
besides a few lines

-please don't mind my mispellings-

give me some good crits
i really want to see what yall think of this piece
Last edited by bigbirdfan at May 13, 2008,