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I will probably be writing very depressing poems in this journal.



Crimson rain slowly falls Layering the ground with blood red soil I lie there wondering Who am i?

Posted by: Fallen_Vampire_Angel Thu Jun 23, 2005 @ 05:28am

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Polerno
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Commented on: Tue Jun 13, 2006 @ 08:30pm


	Few know the answer to that question, it is not easily learned. I search for myself the only way I know how, by making mistakes and finding out who I'm not. Maybe you can find a faster and better way that doesn't require so many mistakes. That much I get but what's with the red soil? It adds an air of mystery and poetry to it but doesn't make much sense. Pretty though.

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