We always have that kind

Escaping the Mundane

In the night where the cloud envelopes the so called

“sky”, moonlit vanishes and the orchestra that plays

the fantasia of our memoir heaved. Promises that induce

remorse haunts this strange dimmed room as the hoard

of voices streams, this tiara left from you, the feign of

solitude exists for when this blue sky rises from the

fragments of my seized pain.


We always and we will have that kind..