Where The Wild Things Are


We don’t speak our names, our things that float in between. Let me haze in your side. Under the crescent shade, we hold the lights of this silent night. Living a life of moments that contemplate us. Praying inside.

We dance in the shadow of this lonely tree, following the rhytm of this howling wolf and silently we sing the echoes of this crying wolf. Let me haze under your wings as king and queen. We hold the time on this silent night of our escapism,something to fear. In the sea of tears, away from our tears, away from our dreams.

Under the crescent shade, time goes from where the wild things are.

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