Walls Of Rooms Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Walls Of Rooms



What
Do
You
Need
Now
That
The
Walls
Of
Rooms
Have
Flown
Unto
The
Storm
Unto
The
Heavens
Rage
Yet
Do
Not
Hurt
The
Thunder
Fires
Around
But
Burns
Not
A
Hair
And
Lightning
The
Same
The
Chill
Its
Withered
Hand
Suspends
Behind
Its
Back
You
Be
The
Dense
Mists
And
Foliaged
Woods
Come!
Come!
The
Film
Of
The
Subconscious
Has
Begun

Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: heaven,life
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