Louis Borgo (01-06-1988 / shelby)
The Right Tear Of A Mountain Tear
The right; tear of a mountain tear,
A portrait of a landscape years of tactile up rise,
Seeing is, believing an alpinist had ties to tithes of a higher life.
Perfection is not solitude,
But is one way to integrated one being,
Diligent is ageless so he took a soul search flight of light.
Virtuous is a wonder,
Deliberation he found in capture of nature beauty,
One’s he reach the top of the mountain a tear from right eye hit the ground.
Comments about this poem (The Right Tear Of A Mountain Tear by Louis Borgo )
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