You come like undersea
quake, hitting
the sleeping moon.
No headlines,
no bleeding hearts,
just masochism.
Drinking angst
and spirit, from― a
Venus in exile.
After holy scripts
drifting out
with battle scars.
You come like undersea
quake, hitting
the sleeping moon.
No headlines,
no bleeding hearts,
just masochism.
Drinking angst
and spirit, from― a
Venus in exile.
After holy scripts
drifting out
with battle scars.