Horned Goat

Walked slow half-limping he Horned Goat Towards the Temples of Evolution One by one One after the other. The Temples are in the rocks And the rocks in the desert be Under light blue cupolas lay Stretching the temples In Evolution sacred Yet maintaining the Percentage of Conservation Minimal and due Dire Ten centuries passed and more Millennium to millennium. There was thus the Bridge, the Sacred Bridge. Hung as on a clothing line were the Destinies And nights were thousands. And chill was of times thousand Desert thirst-in-cold and Frozen sand And dust The Horned Goat was after all the Spirit.