Tuesday, May 29, 2007

VIII

VAULT
The solitude she finds standing under it.


She loves the sky.

The calmness reflected from the azure.

The sky being blue.

Its silence, its distance,
the gnosis hidden behind.

The danger it roars
whenever it turns gray.

The dreams it brings
whenever it lets those grains twinkle distinctively.



Its tolerance to hold tears before it finally cries over the land.

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