Lady lottos in the grottoe can you hear me weep,
in my tower with my kingdom i stare into the deep.
along the village of all despair i peer into your scorn,
strung up high unto a life of folly ronic dorn.
almost as if you could predict the breath i soon will take,
i cast my shadow on its course away from murky lakes.
the wind is nigh,
i feel for you,
my chestnut of this world.
my heart is fine,
its made form you,
the savior of this world.
*%^iii^%*
Monday, January 18, 2010
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