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akhtar
27-06-04, 06:06 PM
See me walk
This sleeping son of mankind
A flower upon the crippled field
Worn out, scraping upon the rough exterior
The rains no longer lust after this oldness of ain

Tired of being king
On the ledge to another order
A vision mirrors, tooting

Gliding freely on the autonomy of space
Searing orange covers the wild green sundry
The wind blows its nakedness unto me

Times past we drifted along on the hills
Hop skipping across the tireless tundra
Clouds drape over peaks, seemingly rapt
A wondrous union, surely apt

Breathing in the fresh aroma
We were mere marks on the inflamed dune
Our minds rose high into the clouds, piercing into the core
Twin sons of vision
Ours was a flight on tidal discovery
A diversion from the world of mirrors