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Wild serpent rides through the miscellaneous
feeds the roaming rouge, guarding his tone.
Driven by incantations of flow's intent
the observer recollects all that is precious.
Soaring through the entire all there is
he embraces time's irrevocable outcome.
Speed is lethal to inspiration.
Poetry by Bob
Read 583 times
Written on 2006-01-31 at 20:35




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![]() by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |

