Monday, 2 November 2009
Falween
We mimic death only to become it and resurrect
Vast flavours’ of a dark descend thou cluttered ego shouts
Foretold of a time that tale of rock and hard labours’ end
The blur of irregular faces steaming my lens
Only the hero will save you now
Only the fallen will bet your growling match
Cultures greatest gift bereft in forsaken clarity
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