Grief
A freezing grip that holds you by the throat
Constricting thine self of any hope
That there can be a future alone on the helm
When you long for the lost company of them
A freezing grip that holds you by the throat
Constricting thine self of any hope
That there can be a future alone on the helm
When you long for the lost company of them
Short and powerful, a perfect combination. Great write :)
Cool! up + follow.
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