The tempest land its brutal anger <br />On the face of thinner squall, a gentle fair <br />Up above the sky, a revolting air; <br />Bringing down a wrath of nature <br />Sprawling like frenzied trees down shore. <br /> <br />Cumber sludge hit a plain spindle ray <br />The melody was a heated whistle of air strike, <br />Swing was a lullaby, a bird’s song cry; <br />And carried over a rain, flooding streets alike <br />Only one wishes faring by a loathsome tremor hike. <br /> <br />What a lovely view a light string draw <br />Home is heaven, and the land withstood a straw; <br />It cracks a slit where earthworms swell <br />Left alone scrolling by its mouth’s spin <br />Sparse was the meaning at eventide’s spell. <br /> <br />Now the lofty swing hit a flinching loop <br />Where ignorance is a tool, a pen is abhorred; <br />But the only hope of ignorance is rotten supplication, <br />Bear neither string nor a stronghold attained <br />Bad is good, and good is a malediction.<br /><br />Gil Gregorio<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-light-spin/
