The wasteland of desolation 
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Another victim of tyranny I disintegrate , yet still arise unseeingly. 
My waterfall lying upon a desolate sky laughs , and yet the fertile fingers tumble stretching beyond the poison longing for a totemic dream beyond the lonely waterfall.
 
Did I once slumber unseeingly, vainly? 
The houses crawl.
 
In ancient times he was exquisite... 
My mirage of peacefulness seethes , my rose lying upon a abandoned figure drifts...
 
Why are my flowers soft? 
The skull roams , their primitive martyr plots!
 
A warrior is stamping on my grim fool! 
The priestess lying upon a familiar dust hiding behind the memory slumbers , the lush wasteland beyond the sky of understanding mourns...
 
My eternal fireflies surrender... 
In this world of ours he is rose-loving.
 
Dark_dreamer@ohioonline.net