Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

I
Even in this 
crypt,
me soul wait 
no longer! Its 
crest burnt-
The Eagle 
velt; born of 
virtue,
Less 
corruptible, 
grieve in its 
lounge thirst!
The Sandy 
Storm.

A day without 
rain calls the 
storm
Within the 
crypt, the 
souless wails!
Whose 
charming 
flutes shall 
calm these?
Shall David's 
songs enrich 
souls or mar?
The sandy 
storm.

Crypts; a 
taboo for soul-
full,
Lest, I began 
wailing - for,
Its greatness, 
lies thereof
Shadows 
crested our 
flags, 
whirling 
winds;
A shiver to 
our darling 
hearts.
Minted coins; 
blood of 
aztec!
Crypts' song; 
livens the 
sandy storm

From the 
soulless; born 
of the velt.
Wielded by 
the sonorous 
Adored by the 
mightiest,
On whose fax, 
shall its 
shadow run?
The sandy 
storm.

Raging as its 
neon star; 
shining in its 
darkening 
path!
Our lonely 
night, a walk 
for the 
craving crow.
Shall friends 
be foe! Shall 
mothers be 
lovers!
Never! 


II

The sandy 
storm; the 
spirits 
journey,
The sandy 
storn; an over-
comed 
threshold!
Obeisance; a 
joy which 
gladdens my 
hold.
I'll hold the 
fort, high 
steamed, with 
bellows of 
men.
Let no velt be 
built - for the 
velt; a 
shadow of 
history!
Shadow of 
history, in 
hearts, it lives.

On the path to 
Nile,
The journey 
of breath, 
Shall I rest my 
bossom
The velt once 
born, the velt 
once taken, 
the velt once -
The Sandy 
Storm

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