deepundergroundpoetry.com

The hat of might.

In the tale  of  
Fruit of the  
Deep woods  
 Where I soak the  
Pain ,the fragments  
Of the murky glass  
 King of the thee,
The ideal days of  
 Ideal to address  
With in the post  
 Of the letters  
In cards of  
Court  
I sit by river  
And the moon  
Gleams over me  
to boat offshore  
to colour  greenth  
in apples.
Written by AlisVolatPropriis8
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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