Come sit, have a sip of the black tea, I prepared.
The story is long for your forlorn heart would claim the pain in a moment or two.
The chain I talk today, oh, sorrow is diabolical,
so frugal, barbarous
the inside of my mind, heart have left the colonies of pleasure as if.
As I cross my wrist, hear the crackle
the crackle of my solitutude
lit in my eyes,
the burning glaze you see,
the dilapidating music you hear,
come sit have, another sip of the black tea,
the tales shall get darker as you sip your black tea.
The ruckus runs through my skin, joining dots
on my skin,
creating shambles like a dead corpse
The arms extend late nights to grab a bottle of comfort, you see?
The comfort like meadow, oh, the sweet meadow,
peace like the orchids, white natured.
soft feather stating
gorgeous wings,infinte joyous tales to discover.
Oh, you finished the tea.. wish a refill?
For this soul can say the darkest of chronicles,
like the flowing wishful evergreen Ganges.