Sunday, March 07, 2010

Susan Boyle's voice is a gift from the heavens manz.

Etude to my love,
it flew like a dove.
But lost of luck,
its wings doth struck.

Wings clipped and dent,
my descent into lament.
Impaled and drained,
sundered in twain.

Headlong towards Earth,
would salvation be in time,
to redress the crime,
and finally, give hearth.

-meng, Flight of Fancy, Plight of fallacy.

a leaf fell on 2:43 pm

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My Engravings