Indigo

Bedlams rest within these indigo walls; the new age of senses like bloodhounds, we scratch and sniff the streets for freedom;ambitious we reach; we attempt to clasp this distinguished portrait as an escape route, but we are met with misfortune a ghost has traveled these woods he has; his presence can be tasted lurking within the breeze the new age of senses unfolds an awakening to behold © 2012 (All rights reserved)