Ezekiel Geoffrey Poems

I hear whistling from silent graves. I give attention to it, I could hear my very heart beat. And the ground did itch my feet. I felt the winds with hands tugging in my flesh, I felt been dragged away to that hungry tomb.
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How have I began, now that the wind and the fire interface with the rage of war. To whom should I run to as master, the fire which shall burn me out or the wind that seizes and flings me about.
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I found a rose of gold in the van yard with the wanderers. We wandered in the van yard searching for the key to the door of the beautiful. Key with the keeper watching at the rose of gold. Here with the beautiful still in want of the valued. Value for the wants
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Life has the foot of a chameleon and the head of a lion with which it stitches so dull proving not to bow nor fall in making it self invisible for my catch. And desire like the prides maid for a languish love she played, the bride's a mockery before all before
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I stand before many hills i look from afar but saw nothing prety will. I take a long walk towards the many hills and it(the hill) came closing down on me. I gaze at the hill and at the cloudless skies i greezed my look with hope and with thundurous thoughts i went beyond my limit.
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