His Soprano's Mojave Desert

Psalm sixty-nine pondering what should have been, for their welfare.... Fell unto a curse ? The seventh sign, if there were such and these my eyes Colouratura, such sight they shall find ? Connecting dots while crossing These lines parallel, her world a scripture binds; this collaboration betwixt both Spirit be flesh blood from Ancient rivers, yet known ? Imagination, perhaps twas lore ? Waiting for Grandeur's latter rains; as holocaustic phenomenons ? Time's poignant.. Poetic justice; still, love's hummingbird a portent, sifting dreams; discerned, their nectars.