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Markthetabor

Taunting tides

The moon has returned!

 

And it couldn’t hold more trust.

 

I have delivered my mental,

 

Unto the grass,

 

And through the trees.

 

Oh boy!

 

I cannot wait!

 

For it is imperative to save the bees.

 

Nature flows through my veins

 

And rests my mental.

 

It provides me with armor,

 

Through my nervous system,

 

Made of solid brass.

 

Let us raise the animals of the water,

 

And keep the beauty of those untouched.

 

So that this world may travel further.