Monday, August 9, 2010

Valleys of the Sun

In the valleys of the Sun
Laments the lone goat
In meek noise
Over the golden clouds
Pregnant with memories

Any moment
A rain of words could be delivered
She would meekly weep again
For the kids spread in the skies
Among clouds golden

Promises are all always
Given in golden bowls
They are taken in silence
Without a murmur or whisper
They are taken away
In caskets of despair
Smelling foul, but looking glorious.

Sun is a cheat,
He never goes away,
It is me that flee
In revolutions
My meadows and deserts
Always at his mercy

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