What's left to do when all the peices lay shattered, broken on the floor. The flames engulf and surround my soul. My bodys shaking, bending, tearing till I'm broke. All I ask of you is if there's any beauty left in my ashes...What else can I say, all my hopes are shot down and I've lost my voice shouting for my dreams to rise, from the ashes. Is there any beauty left.
Steepshot