JOSIAH BERLIAN

To the Moon

If you’re patient enough to read this stuff, you’ll be getting the unfiltered works. The silent melody of hope, lurking in shades of black and white.

And boy do I hope that you catch my drift.

Dominate.

What difference will I now make?

Lost Years.

The world awaits – arms wide open; as will I, ever broken.

Voice.

A sound, a voice, three voices, knock.