If only in my darkest hour of despair,
A voice would echo through the air,
I’d cry, in the arms of either stranger or kin,
Baring my soul, with secrets deep within.
Documenting my spontaneous thought, travel diaries, and things I enjoy in between
If only in my darkest hour of despair,
A voice would echo through the air,
I’d cry, in the arms of either stranger or kin,
Baring my soul, with secrets deep within.