| Brian N. Tuley | |
| "Halo" | |
| “Halo” Blades spring up Blades spring up proper There’s nothing no plan There’s nothing to suffer Ancient grass cover Cyclic red wonder Perfect the sand Perfect the thunder. When I have my halo And I’m souring Found out that I’m fed up And I’m round the bend Of a mountain Of clouds and And of my sins. When I hang my halo And I’m soaring Face the mask I’ve made up And there’s no end …..and there’s no end….like my wingspan. Withered mountain…… |
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