Silence cascades across the night
And echoes softly.
Why is it that even after you know, who you are, what you're made of, it's so difficult to express, to put out in words?
Why is it that it all sounds pretentious, arrogant, foolish or simply rubbish.
I suppose I'll never know.
Or maybe I'm just not as good with words, as I thought I was.
Or maybe it's
(
Read more... )