Letras
there is no such thing as a safe zone here, only a well disguised one. 5 days into my adventures I'd stumbled upon a charmingly quaint fishing town located off stream of Corahb’eiy, one of 4 main lake bodies of the western otherlands. As harmless as the local folk and fauna may be, they ultimately serve as perfect distraction to the true danger of this maritime hamlet. The lake itself.
His paddle board Is petrified
Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy
This fishing town Lost 20 lives
The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries
The scum is pushed to away
As the rescues left the bay in search
Of some young bedevilled face
The verdicts never change I fear
Its nothing u had caused
The scars The same
In turn His fate
Is changed damned
To forever dwell in the lake
His kin Is shamed
By you And me
The weakest die in breaking walls we had raised to remain
His paddle board Is petrified
Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy
This fishing town Lost 20 lives
The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries
And at certain points Its suicide
To press the envelope u know has anthrax inside
With could’ve dones U never win
When every fucking day is spent relearning them
I lost another animal last night
Treading water in that creek
Swept away into its bite
And I wonder if ill ever see it die
Ill keep waving off this wind
Ill keep beating back its brine
I
At lakeside Ill keep one eye on this shore
Ill keep one eye on our land
While I venture in its depths, I
Must say I never learned to hold my breath
But ive learned to hold my own
And ill fight until I hold its head
His paddle board Is petrified
Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy
This fishing town Lost 20 lives
The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries
And at certain points Its suicide
To press the envelope u know has anthrax inside
With could’ve dones U never win
When every fucking day is spent relearning them