Over... Listen... never hear. Without...within nowhere near.
Time suspended... glistening... still... Sentinel watching; waiting
kills. Lure a peasant, steal a dream. Ride a rainbow, dare to scream.
Drawn and quartered, hung to dry. Hear her laughing.... feel me cry.
T.S. Mapes copyright 1990
bitter, swollen thoughts on a never, never day May 11, 1990
