April
Tuesday 9 March 2010 photo 1/1
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Of purity, a spark is flying against the cloudless sky.
Of corruption, a straw of hope is fried.
In deep fantasy, flowers bloom.
In dark dreams, catacombs gloom.
By the flying heroism, we are born.
By barried lies, we are decieved to blow the horn.
A mere bird, significant to others.
Yet to the public, as infamous it may be, thou are brothers.
In a despised dilemma, many shallow men shalt be the light.
In a cherished happiness, few see darkness, in the flight.
Paths are taken, to stop the fray.
Trails are lost, in finding the way.
/Simon Hult. 03/09/10
Of corruption, a straw of hope is fried.
In deep fantasy, flowers bloom.
In dark dreams, catacombs gloom.
By the flying heroism, we are born.
By barried lies, we are decieved to blow the horn.
A mere bird, significant to others.
Yet to the public, as infamous it may be, thou are brothers.
In a despised dilemma, many shallow men shalt be the light.
In a cherished happiness, few see darkness, in the flight.
Paths are taken, to stop the fray.
Trails are lost, in finding the way.
/Simon Hult. 03/09/10
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