I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood
Words were never my greatest strength/ But the arsonist's child will read them
During the mid 20th century, when female wordsmiths somewhat flourished with their newly published works, they were still suppressed under the dominance of male authors.
The melancholic, tuned nostalgia of finishing a journey was being caressed by the soft yet upbeat rhythm of the journey coming forth.
I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood
Words were never my greatest strength/ But the arsonist's child will read them
During the mid 20th century, when female wordsmiths somewhat flourished with their newly published works, they were still suppressed under the dominance of male authors.
The melancholic, tuned nostalgia of finishing a journey was being caressed by the soft yet upbeat rhythm of the journey coming forth.
