Thursday, December 18, 2008

Untitled 2

Untitled 2

Upon the mountain top she stands
soaking in the solitude
she begins the ritual with a wave of wand
the wind rises up
bringing the foul scent of destruction from afar
her soul is weary
her bones are old
her destiny has been foretold
with gossamer whispers she is shown the way
Eagle soars high above
watching her
with creators love















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