save but a trifle wind nigh
the scorn of the sun, holy fire
the perputal bliss, a dire desire
Save but a tifle of wind nigh
an eerie frost, a troubled sigh
a crystal drop, a flash of floods
Ah! She is free! Wrath of bloods
Red in flood, green in leaf
'ere doth she breed, her very own fief
A Life of mind, body and soul
ere doth she breed, a million fold
3 comments:
Beautiful da... Your language is kickass!
thanks da
Good one. :)
"... everything in nature is lyrical in its ideal essence, tragic in its fate, and comic in its existence."
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