Age of Silence 90º Angles

It has been done The return is completed Now to grow fainter To be buried in soft shades of jade I used to like the rainfalls to feel tender bites of grey city water on my white, clean face pure from the start dirty to the end drawing diagonal marks shutting me into a private prison with bars of water on skin The smell of wet asphalt always softened up a hard world 90 degree angles, shiny surfaces covered in dirt br, br,