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From the weary bottom of my heart,The light never pierces but a cosmic dread. Cold and old, it rumbles, and it moans. For the fright of God, unknown.
From the weary bottom of my heart, The light never pierces but a cosmic dread.
Cold and old, it rumbles, and it moans. For the fright of God, unknown.
A mysterious deity – cloaked in a shroud, peeping here and there, hidden, but Its voice – loud and clear.
The muteness of my tiny ear can fill an ocean with my sobbing tears.
The rain held its tongue against the twilight canvas and wound up its performance, leaving an immaculately clean and shimmering world shrouded in an ethereal glow.
From the weary bottom of my heart, The light never pierces but a cosmic dread.
Cold and old, it rumbles, and it moans. For the fright of God, unknown.
A mysterious deity – cloaked in a shroud, peeping here and there, hidden, but Its voice – loud and clear.
The muteness of my tiny ear can fill an ocean with my sobbing tears.
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The rain held its tongue against the twilight canvas and wound up its performance, leaving an immaculately clean and shimmering world shrouded in an ethereal glow.
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