Alone in the night I sleep
Of lightning flashes my window
No withered grass…no spilled wine
While thunder crashes the meadow..
A house made of glass, doves flew freely
Drapes of unlike colors, rainbow’s gaily sway
Ceilings meet the walls, bound by tough rolling rocks
Earth sees the sky, watching my tearful cracks..
In a fresh forest garden. where wild flowers grow
where helpless worms creep, hunt for rotten straws
There are things we can’t see
But I see all these things they do
obsessed by their power, I write
felt the needs they crave, I saw..
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