mardi, 14 décembre 2010
LAMENTS OFF
There's a space
Behind the trees
A space without a place
Where the venom grows
In tattoos and lace
Behind the trees
Of the smokey desert
Hands are caressing
Sculptures of breeze
In warm embrace
Woodmen and rock stars
Follow the path of war
Among collapsing walls
Just for the beauty
Of a night at the opera
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