Comments about Seer Garth
Wish Of The Morning
I wish of the Morning and dream of its light...
I imagine my spring flesh would be made of clean lines
And the moist of the air would wash my sinful eyes
In silvery tears spiraling down from the skies.
Shivers from above and rumbles from below
Would be tremors from my teeth that would grow.
My soul would breath high
And I would feel the smell