Swept over a magical land, needn't be a magical brush, a magical time that tame our after paces, who is meant to heal the world? whose destiny is meant to change the course of history, but so is a today, that is set to sail and away, driven into the cunning stones lies statues, blended with the breathing land, and so close on our heels, it screamed into the hollow earth, needn't be a gaze over us, around us is a pleasantry, that is vivid to the eye, breathing still are holes dug into the earth, wouldn't let go, needn't be told, on the sand of time yet they laid, imminent behind a legend of time, it dug still, on and on, chasing our shadows, never letting go.
Alafe Ramat
Monday, May 28, 2012