The feathers of the larva are not still
They are pearly, whipping the gust the chroma of the sky is not leaden, It is the deep blue of a fulgent sunny day.
The truancy of bird carol is not impeding, It is the hoarding and handling of everything into the sewer of hope.
Peace animates as the dusk strikes and the stench of nightfall in every posy, peace comes out as mellow with ridge -peace is the fantasy of Sudan's supple shadow.
......
The feathers of the larva are not still
They are pearly, whipping the gust the chroma of the sky is not leaden, It is the deep blue of a fulgent sunny day.
The truancy of bird carol is not impeding, It is the hoarding and handling of everything into the sewer of hope.
Peace animates as the dusk strikes and the stench of nightfall in every posy, peace comes out as mellow with ridge -peace is the fantasy of Sudan's supple shadow.
......