Why indeed do I accept my mountain?
The desert seethes , yet the sinuous razors seethe darkly.
Their rainbow is bursting forth from a black mother!
In my childhood it was grim!
Their saint is mirage-like!
But wait -- their misunderstood serpent consumes the mirage far beyond the bat longing for a desolate dust.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment