the feather in the clouds,
drifting, flying flowing . .
the wind as her wheel. .
sparkling beneath his back. .
washed by the glow of the sun
drifting, flying glowing. .
the wind swept her away
the shadowy lights to fear . .
the dripping coldness to bear. .
stepping on fresh dirt. .
drifting apart,
each day each night
seeking her green eyes. .
slithering through the smell of death. .
beating against the drops
this was no race,
this was a long lost battle..
in his fiery arms,he held no wand
but the feather smitten by rain
caught in the bloom ..
soaked in the rain . .
feather of another story . .
mashed by the thundery mills. .
the pain, the agony the
kept the abode in his heart alive. .
this was no race,
this was a long lost battle. .
crushed under his clogged feet. .
the empty hopes of revival. .
blow the draughts of the fall. .
shoot through the icy winds . .
there's a tender leaf, a crying life..
springing in his arms . .
his, eyes feathery soft . .
flashing the scars of the thunderbolts. .
the memories are ripe and old. .
here are the, new paths to unfold. .
her smell, on the rail
fresh rain on the foil
he fled, he floated, he ran
through the pouring rain .
Dedicated to the catalyst,for initiating the reaction of "writing blog"! well began through dedication and tribute is just half done !
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