Her beast is so grace
Her beast is so grace The beauty is spice The favorite face Of man on ice Drown in her pace Lithe rhythm with haste Or scramble rock face Soft shiver divine Worlding whispers of timing drifters To wither winds mind them Should the future combine them Home of last watch to dust Midstrong he stands against the waters While she rathers so strong rafters disarm him Pounding fists into folly from martyr to treason One reason reminds them tomorrow and season She steams ahead with gusts unfurling Beating her heart and winding whirling Chanting the verse that drives men churning Listen to the street The beat is burning




















