I want to feel the beautiful, deep melancholy of everything that's happened.
I want the rainforests to grow again and I want the concrete to
sink into the ground and never be seen again, be swallowed up by the land it
I want the seas to wash us clean, so we can be
the beautiful freaks we were meant to be
Sunday, 28 November 2010
A gentle silver-sheen
Shimmers upon its concave.
Within it trembles molten metal
(In this light at least).
It's pinacle is a black spire.