Whether To Cry Or Destroy


The salt from my eyes burn
As does the acid of my tongue
Might I unearth the hatchet

And put it to proper use
Might a tempest releive me of sound and sight
My hand is poised, and in fury
Only thunder gives me rest
Dare me to breathe

When I can't catch my breath

Sway my temper's balance
Only thunder gives me rest







Captcha