Your voice soft as a down feather
making polyphonic prose's
the wind blows all your words together

a story of white roses
I reach towards a clever face
I scowl and squint my eyes
this ain't no real face
a liberal illusion
bring some feathers for me
'cause I am falling
guilt strikes back
take me where the light is
my words are weapons and you are a mirror
I believe all of your sayings
but I can only count on mine
this ain't no world for prayers
we all have vicious minds
I like being in the silence
a moment to realize
that I can't fix you this time

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