 |
Armistice |
|
Of sorts and wooded numbers all, I am a bird luckily. Between the Birds and the Beasts collected, like trumpeting black here all in. In here I have ration, tho the two are not split. I am a bird luckily. I, the bat hesitance. I am a beast later; here I have sorrow, tho the two are not split. The two are warring brothers, all armies, all come to the Birds and the Beasts collected. A great conflict of sorts, and wooded (I see now in the hollow of bone and fooled). Here I have ration, here I have sorrow. Tho the two are not split, the two are othered, marched, and collected. |
1996 © 2009 |