A face in the cloud

01 Apr 2024

Iren
A face in the crowd, alone
Where the valley sleeps, in
The pressing trail of bloodlines
Where the clouds cry in thunderbolt 
When William Wallace cried "Freedom" , And died
His handkerchief fell in the ground
Time stood still, lost among plumes
Of hope, A journey to the moon
My Shawshank Redemption.
Where Bravehearts struggling
To achieve  Nirvana
Ended up the in the Lake of fire
In the book of Life 
And hyenas feasted
On the bones of the lost
It was their
Considered opinions.


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Iren

I am a chaotic dreamer And I have layers just like, cakes and onions, flying talking donkeys and Shrek.

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