Heethen Poem by Timothy Long

Heethen



Seethen is the heethen, my preethen is my deethen, going in stride in a perplex manner, to the deep edges of darkness i do see fit, zeus's lightning in the endless pit, sparkling art to come through, to make it's imagination running in distian, or they of happiness is seen through the hardness virtue in endless red seeing.

Monday, April 22, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: happiness,red,running
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Timothy Long

Timothy Long

Auburn, New York
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