A Rosy Dream

Oh, the interrupted breathing- I met you by chance on the bank of melancholic and muddy river I ask you to wander the lanes of the skull until the arrival of the marriage season between the rains of immortality and the thirsty shivering prairies of the psyche. Henceforth the hands of time shall not devour me - I shall not be easy prey between the claws of fate where new grass, unbanned grass will grow inside me. the locusts will eat that grass, purge the damned giant from the shells of their intellects and Evil will settle, forever, into the graves of nothingness