Winter Sunset
Do you see those clouds now? In a god-perspective they lie Like a picture by a master In a glass eternity. Beyond the hot centres of self. From the chaste womb of December Beauty is born. We echo The words our angels remember.
Do you see those clouds now? In a god-perspective they lie Like a picture by a master In a glass eternity. Beyond the hot centres of self. From the chaste womb of December Beauty is born. We echo The words our angels remember.