Olive-toned bone reflects dim rays back to the sun;
leisurely roaming 'cross black tar pit oceans
and freely it treks through new glistening green dew.
It's perfumed with the scent of sweet still lake waters;
this humble aroma alludes its senses and
it continues through life bereft of that gift.
Its skin roughened by the harsh cruelties of life;
claws are sharpened by the continuous traverse
of the land, dragging its mass and sanctuary.
As it carries the world upon its carapace,
it is enlightened, though our eyes bide in darkness,
its thickly ridged mouth remains forever snapped shut.
It truly understands that silence is golden,
and therefore is showered with royalty's riches,
yet wipes them from its back for they do not save us.
Talkback: Post Reply | View replies (0)
