The seer

air hangs close upon his skin 

the feel of fervour ushered in 

by weave of word and chant of spell

time does wane and stillness well

and in the well he sees of time

of realms perceives and fathoms minds

 

the air hangs close ushered in

the feel of fervour upon his skin

he walks through realms in desolation 

feels the madness of annihilation

the seer sees of chaotic minds

the holocaust of all mankind

◄ Ballad of the Willow

Crimson ►

Comments

DESMOND CHILDS

Tue 9th Apr 2019 17:18

Thank you Steve for the comments much appreciated, thanks Dorothy, Anya and Rachel for the likes.



All the best des

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