If my language is my liberty and my liberty is love then a lifetime spent in the shadow of a smile is my liberation,
As the fragility of thought seeks its freedom on the field of valence I see the breath I draw is the life I sore bleeding in the fields of war,
I am a student of the moment with the lady that is a lifetime louring me to love her I bath in her beauty and behold her very story,
Caressed by the breast of thy mother our souls sore on sorrow of her pillaged plight under our might as is the proving ground of the day is the shinning light of the night,
No comments:
Post a Comment