[Asa || Baby Gone]
The things that bring us joy cause us soo much pain
We expect comfort but our hearts are shamed
Like the Atlantic, a splendid sight To grace the eye
It washes my trouble whenever I’m nigh
It soothes my soul to listen to her thunderous whispers
Her infinite beauty and accommodation, limitless
My comforter, my trouble
The way her waves do wobble
And smash through my heart like a train, full throttle
The breeze from her cold heart has turned mine to stone
And has led me to this lonely, desolate road
I pray my weary feet walk me out of cold night at see
To a Shangri La, where I’ll lay my head to sleep
Tuff Assassin
The Lost Scrolls 