Round 2
Mickey
As clouds weep, silent
As winds sing, lament
As land stirs, provoked
Emotions run clumsily into advent,
One’s sould does not break.
Where pain should break ones purpose,
Tears, blood, sweat, shivering muscles,
Blinded by abuse of a fight,
Unable to see where to move
But still the anticipation moves one towards it,
Waiting for the reach to strike and move.
Hopelesness lament solitude,
Round 2!!
