Again I break from my shell...As clouds break over the dawn...And I rise...And I wait...For the music to come.
Sunday, 29 July 2012
What is a woman that doesn't love? Never wronged, watches and hates and breathes from the tower of men around her. And soon, grows into a flower no one will reap and no one will sow. A woman with no songs isn't a woman at all. For a woman who is silent, is a shackled woman.