Mad waters come our way.
Seasons are gleaned from lean stems
beneath bloodless rocks;
thresholds, scorched, reprint footsteps
of dark ages replete with foul breath.
Alas, mad days are here.
And with clouds mourning near
disconsolate skies,
the heavens themselves lay siege on
......
Mad waters come our way.
Seasons are gleaned from lean stems
beneath bloodless rocks;
thresholds, scorched, reprint footsteps
of dark ages replete with foul breath.
Alas, mad days are here.
And with clouds mourning near
disconsolate skies,
the heavens themselves lay siege on
......