Reaching The Hermatige

Brown twin peaks through her valley I walk, waiting I waite for the moon to rise. The red rose is high it is certain to raise her white flag my silk curtain. Glory is he, today through the valley I walk. These words that I write, they make me. Mans reign of crime is over. Her breasts full of milk covered me. Through each hungry child you have found me. I master the chaos of the world you embodied. Being milked by hand I call out her name. When you love him you her to do love. Being unlike the rest far abovementioned. From this valley I walk through her curtains.