Men who for truth and honor's sake Stand fast and suffer long. Brave men who work while others sleep, Who dare while others fly... They build a nation's pillars deep And lift them to the sky...
like an empty canvas starving for the paint I lie awake remembering the taste. I't feels like the artist has died at first but the more I think the more I begin to realize how the canvas its self has become withered over time, undusted and old it lies there waiting to be murdered by mold.