My free will is a gift. I curse myself.
I long to know you!
I fall short, probably far.
How can I control my desires?
When the Soul Cried Out for Meaning
My free will is a gift. I curse myself.
I long to know you!
I fall short, probably far.
How can I control my desires?
I am my poetry, my poetry is me. I pray what I believe. I believe what I pray. View more posts