Descended,
many moons ago,
he seeped through the womb of the dirt,
grooved about the whims of wind,
latched to lands of milk and bloom,
he sinks,
awoke; turbulent rain,
deceitful tounges,
lands of swindlers,
he harnesses involatile faith,
a hefty heart,
he is not of this world.
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Author:
Zapatron (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 21st, 2024 21:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
Wonder who He
is? Beautiful write River.
Thank you!
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