No More A Girl

Covered you are black from the soot a world has turned on you see I no more the little girl. Hide you do afraid in your calculated cloak. Fit it you do not I see you at an end of hope. Give not this world a cliche it needs a truth to exude to protrude…

Head Control

Saturate the eclipses, stir the heaven’s call. I know of ways of old, fall is calling my fall. When the season turns I can feel a soul earned. In the cold mountain my wise soul it does burn. I breathe smoke dragon call me unto blue sky I think the sense in me I could…