Woodland TreesA Poem by MeThrough the woodland trees
flew natures gentle breath, as if all was at peace and the world was at rest. Through the rumoured halls of the early morning mist, The dragons were dancing with the harlots they kissed. After the dance was over, the fauns had gone to sleep, the many gifted murderer sat on the ceiling of the room. Caressing his intellect, perceiving the end of dawn. Magic was bound to appear flecked with bleeding ulcers. Through the woodland air blew natures ending groove, Casting aside flipping images of neon lights in disrepair. Blowing away the dandruff of lost emotional disgrace. Great rolling demons of desire insisting on a new understanding. Through the woodland magic flapped the rigid of disease. The man tangled spider webs hindering vision to the cell. The dragons raping the fauns with the harlots cheering on. Nature is a dangerous place, nature is a situation. © 2011 MeReviews
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9 Reviews Added on November 16, 2011 Last Updated on November 16, 2011 AuthorMeOntario, CanadaAboutOn the splendid streets of Toronto walks a man. He observes, he writes, he lives; a never-ending chronicle of his mind flooding from his hands onto paper. more..Writing
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