Swirling pink and purple <br />on the horizon, <br />we are a mystery of souls <br />caught up in the graces of <br />nature's trickery... <br /> <br />There she stands, <br />with rays of sunlight <br />caressing her form, <br />illuminated, <br />she hears the cries <br />of humanities internal wails, <br />yearning for lust to bloom, <br />so it can take us back, <br />back, back, into the womb... <br /> <br />In this crevice of prophesy <br />even hermits unearth their hearts <br />believing, <br />wanting to believe, <br />that she will ease their cries... <br /> <br />But by storm, <br />a tundra of corruption drums... <br />and the season arrives, <br />when the cords of Spring unravel, <br />and mother nature fools us, again. <br /> <br /> <br />Copyright ©2005<br /><br />Adryan Rotica<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/procreation-2/
