I am not one for weapons.
Or those those orange
detonations, that
are beyond good and evil.
I much prefer the
passing clouds,
that free me to perform.
And those great roots of night,
growing below our loving silence
A gentle sun before me
I am not one for weapons.
Or those those orange
detonations, that
are beyond good and evil.
I much prefer the
passing clouds,
that free me to perform.
And those great roots of night,
growing below our loving silence
A Wandering Poet 