Alien thrills wrecked the bunch of flaming air <br /> <br />panting to choked breath and broken stare <br /> <br />this is my own dreaded sore, <br />the unkind teeth leading the aged saw <br /> <br />the trance eroded blatantly the true hope that clove to the arms of reality <br /> <br />the tug twirling the decisive steps of the weird morrow <br /> <br />the palms that clouded around the earnest eyes of action <br /> <br />shallow promises effervesing to half anticipated light <br /> <br />ride on the hardest of backs, <br />soil your white-washed hands on the plains that feared your very eyes <br /> <br />let the air not flicker no more on this worn nostrils <br /> <br />save the perils, <br />turn the leaves and let its eyes not roam the mudy grounds <br /> <br />from afar the mean haze, <br />neither today nor the mean morrow wraps fortune <br /> <br />anger lingers between the eye-gazed lines that are to be read <br /> <br />it charms the sights with vigourous red <br /> <br />luckless!<br /><br />Goodnews mememugh Karibo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rough-paths/
