This is a scheduled post planned to be published at 1468031579000 at 1468031579000

Drenched with a mind filled with so much clutter.
Not light and free like a butterflie's flutter. 
It's a neverending swamp of strain. 
When I turn to ashes there will be no remains.
Of the swamp, only butterflies flying over the grain. Drenched with a mind filled with so much clutter. Not light and free like a butterflie's flutter. It's a neverending swamp of strain. When I turn to ashes there will be no remains. Of the swamp, only butterflies flying over the grain.
1468031579000 at 1468031579000