The lump in the concrete...only justHollowing its cave-like mouth, in deep-hanging crevicesGrass on, and under it,scattered dandelions, whose severed heads are a song to their scaffold-stemslying like sacrificed soldiers on the battlefield.Moving onto the sight of the second and third squadronof white-haired, giraffe-necked brothers-in-arms that stand at the lions' gatein an inter-galactic war.This field is open to more than one ending.The hunter - out and about.A sheepish walk, more of a sneak,In a world soon populated by uncaring beings that could get their hunter down in one shot:betrayal of the underprivileged, caged in domesticated looks, trapped to no escape.Those loyal to death, and, admittedly, to each other, will continue to sing-As black-feathered as they are-And while this (living) flow has the mind of a thousand breaths and the soul of a gasp,once the world has come to its middle ground, still green, still young,it will die into a new one!https://www.freepik.com/free-photos-vectors/backgroundBackground photo created by wirestock - www.freepik.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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