MyGen Profile Generator Wild, blue, and being there are about the only things I am always. I am a poet, I am a foreigner, really, as in: I live 4457.8 miles away from the place I was born. I do not remember my dreams if not for the quality of the shadows they form in the corner of my eyes the next day; irritating, really! as something that I know I am about to forget to do. I have questions, that, as the years pass, I unfortunately tend to answer. Good thing that with age, memory forgets open its gates and with the sorrow of days gone so flee the answers and time it is again to try new solutions, or, at best, form new riddles.
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Pomp and Happenstance @ Edit Red
http://www.editred.com/Uploads/st_76004_Pomp_and_H... Oh God by the thousands namesoh God by the thousands names and one only finger pointed back at Yourself You, round, circular, a vertical vertebra and a blade without sentiment or doubt but the transgressing statement that curves at the sole uprooting kingdoms and laws and dissolving the margins past which, is wine the grout mid You and us,are the words meant for You no more weak than the strength of mortar, the unbreaking bending of the bamboo cane, the iron sword that twists a people,or the light that penetrates the twilight and shrivels it before exploding from within?You with Your skill of disguise Are balmier, slyer and far more ferocious than all of the above and yet You do not come but as a gust of wind, a sigh breathing in efflorescence the memory of a bell that toll for resurrectiona game of card played as a solitaire or the other way around.
