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Warrior of Amaranth Nights
i would sink if the moon left these shores! picture of myself, bright floods! seeking shadowed roads. Of yellow and green cellophane hearts --into the willows of an old courtyard.
O my dying quiet hearts of arts and words of black dog, brown shepherd hungry for masters -- bitter peaches upon the ground : while sulfur and evil drown in shallow swims.
Oh but Lord! through amaranths and Saharan blues as fire and creepers seep through the widow's cage! i walked Guianan without shoes and flew through the ducal window on such a moonlight as the blessed bindweed. Across ages of time and hordes cross our aged Europe.
Every soul crosses the moors -- all warriors!
:: 08.31.2020 ::
Copyright ©
Ernest Robles
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