Monday, May 4, 2009
Angel
Labels:
angel
,
music
,
poetry
Beautiful.
In the arms of an angel,
fly away, from here.
from this dark cold hotel room,
and the endlessness that you fear,
You were pulled from the wreckage,
of your silent reverie,
In the arms of an angel.
May you find, some comfort here.
Ian.
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Ian T. - Monday/Wednesday/Friday/Sometimes Sundays
Note: Anything before the month of March are personal blogs. You're welcomed to read them if you like. But be warned. I'm a Vagina at times.
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A many splendoured thing.
You know?
Hectic. Hectic. AHH. (Updated)
It hasn't dawned on me yet.
Angel
Oh where for art thou
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Ian
Ian is a cow. He draws webcomics about ghosts. Yey.
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