A beautiful disaster
A catastrophe filling fibers of butterflies underneath my skin
Till the bottom rift of words I could hardly speak
Filling filled yet bare without ink
A disaster beautifully written
Only just for me, by Him.
A beautiful disaster
A catastrophe filling fibers of butterflies underneath my skin
Till the bottom rift of words I could hardly speak
Filling filled yet bare without ink
A disaster beautifully written
Only just for me, by Him.