Mystic Poem by Michael Koelliker
Mystic
As she wanders her way down the wicked path,
She meets the ones who show no wrath.
They come from the darkness and the dirts,
Releasing toxins into the air from there shirts.
They lead her down the road from the alley way,
From the inner city to the lights of the bay.
And in this epic tale, one woman shows through,
They call her Mystic and no other shines true.
(2/08/2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 10:06:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
