OUR VOICE
Trail traces the gentle dubu above ...
do not stop until the threshold of hope
Life from the pit of the throat shouts
As if echoing the end of the heart ...
Heart bow between the imagination of the mind ..
continue to pierce through the pores
Now all seemed to flow down the dusty valley
There is no foothold ...
To the heirs would know ...
body is yours
If all the re ...
we will carry the white flag
To re-surrender to the little power ...
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar