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The fracture of the cliffside observes, notices the wind hunting for the stray seeds of cotton safely lodged and wedged in its crevices Soft and gentle, forgotten offspring Sunbreaks warm stone’s ancient skin
As the sun peeks over the trees The wind blows through my hair I close my eyes and hear the rustle of leaves I feel the clover with care I smell the scent of dry grass
the Burning Trail In the burning valley, under burning skies, There lay a burning trail, burning old and frail. The whistling wind, humid and hot, Makes the twisting path even harder to climb.
My folks and I are quite weird;Crazy for the wild.We're always after danger,Never anything mild.  
Take a look around you.Do you see the starlight?Do you see the owl whoFlies solo in the night?  
Inbetween the mountains I lay Waiting for a warm breeze. These days are rare now. I look around, I see beautiful, towering trees. The snow on the mountain tops shines.  
I want to make love constantly and get high stay young
written January 2008  
The call of the wild is stronger to me, louder and more alluring than I thought it would be.  They covered my eyes and bound my feet, 
More emotion than you could ever know is poetry Yes , its when I feel a vague entity But you do understand, you understand the monogamous relationship
Focus our eyes. Are we stuck in the wilderness? Lead us to the promise land. Lead on, lead on... We are the chosen ones. We stand together. When you call, we will answer. You will provide.
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