Yes, I the awakened
(March 3, 1968)
As that wondrous song bird lands upon expectations of glee, tears are tumbling like boulders felled by landslides. Her heartbeat blows inward upon a wayward breeze; but the wayward thwarts my bliss like a beguiled serpent. There, the thunder is calling from the distance as marauding darkness is ever closer; slap after slap upon my face are stinging hail stones that are tormenters for this warrior from the far shore.
That blackness spawns tremulous wind-blown protrusions; they are fashioned death arrows. Every barb is of well honed steel, targeting this heart, ruthlessly without worry of the deadliness. As my gazes are past the marauding darkness, the beguiled serpent is serenading her heart. But hark back at my sadness soul; the wondrous song bird sang melodious accolades, knowing my heart is protected by a golden shield.
2006-06-06
16:18:10
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2 answers
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asked by
Calvin of China, PhD
6
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Other - Arts & Humanities