A dark spectacle, a line or term.
Callous holy dreams fall prey to verse.
Streams flow in through weary eyes.
Dreams of worlds where none can die.
I carry a flag for this lost land.
Things fall softly on moonlit sand.
Footsteps hold the key to peace.
Lines still flow from just beneath.
What is this your hand does hold?
A frozen treat so fruity cold?
I'll ask that you should share this now.
Give me a lick and I'll say wow.