Time Heals Wounds

It's always raining from the hours that close the sun buried beneath its cosmic debris set your clock at ease seven eleven the store that makes things happen a dial in direction we come to an agreement that we need to teach our children well the ringing of a bell stand face down in a brigade of Hell, mark the disorder that comes a bit closer.., come nearer at ease halt to leave your eye breath to dear as if a lonesome fawn wandering..striving the canopy of fools dressed in the flowery daze in search for a cure... The way is measured in red, caution yellow, and shadows standing like cedars at a treeless graveside