Ships of lightening thunder against the velvet moors,
Dust forms molten movies that burn through her veil,
Its an ancient game of chasing that sculpts reborn.
Waves come a hissin through golden fields,
A shimmering hush descends through the reel,
Gamma companion in alpha beat furnaces a song.
A gong announces pronouncing a fleet,
The pirates of morning worship through dance,
A rite of fire rows through turquoise blood.
And frenzied torsos oscillate in vacuum charge,
In robes of silk ever brushing your ear,
Your lighthouse is floating as you watch still.
Assyrian folk lore, eclectic stringed Oudh,
The fangs of a serpent enraged in your spine,
Go lightly across the diamond bridge,
The new moon avatara trances through mist.
No comments:
Post a Comment