A Poet From Siberia

from ruthless deeds to the place where the devil is absent a rambling soul settled down under the mountain wrapped up by the merciful serpent unaware of wrath calling himself a poet from Siberia he planted rusty nails and bred odd stories the astonished evening found a friend in barrens where the heirloom sank during the muddy supper and his weary shoes walk by themselves under the lead sky ring in the clock tower when the electric quest starts with the blackout it's time to confess to be merely mortal behold! the solitude of indistinct fable leads to tranquility but never to treasure