My Mouth Speaks The Language Of Return.

Everything flew by just like a fart.
The last thing i remembered while looking in the mirror was..i had short hair.and those nerd spects.
now.
my hair is covering my face.
I'm not with my original rock band.
But yet in a death band.
and other few more projects going on.
Walking up this path as a musician and an artist.
I turned around.
She stopped climbin with me.
I left her alone.

Cold you say?
My skin's frozen with pain.

Numb.Is the best way to carry on.


Ahh...
Breathe.
The air up here is fresher.



But we're not at the peak yet.

My Catastrophic Mourns.

I'm back to myself.

The Crimson Wolf.