Briana

I am sick.
I am nothing but failure on my own.
The sun came up in your room the morning you reached out your hand and asked for a penny but
I wanted to give you gold and silver.
Peace can disintegrate but love can't terminate.
I breathe systematic death in fascination.
Still alive just incase everything is just a dream.
My spirit hangs over the fire that rises and frays away the edges that keep the rain from falling.
His hands will keep you from falling.