Behind the door stood a pot,the flowers on the pot were shedding the petals. Why is everything changing? A confused heart would ask.The favourite music, turned into something worse than a lamentation.They seed grew,who watered it with anger?The shoulders I leaned on, had thorns. I have a heart which bleed and never heals.I have a tongue which reads and never lead.The world around me is growing thinner and weaker. Life is turning to an ultimate challenge,a puzzle,that only the strong can solve.Behind the walls,is a city made of blades. A reminder, Our hearts are made of rock.
WE ARE REPORTING IN FEAR,AS THEY ARE ON THE QUEST OF SILENCING THE FOURTH ESTATE
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