fill our empty voids
crash our levees ,fill our lungs
our jagged rocks smoothed
seed burried alive
the only kept promise is
from root to the fruit
kiss my sweaty chest
take my neighbor's house away
and let me sail clear
the wrath is mercy
wreck my trees, build my forest
scarred being too close
About the Creator
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The King's nephew
There weren't always dragons in the valley. As Edward would have the villagers believe , there still weren't any dragons in the valley. That fragile notion, barely held together like an old puny ladder, threatening every day to be shattered into a million pieces under the weight of the local heresay. All the same, he would maintain the frail fallacy.
By Tee Swervo4 years ago in Fiction
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