Aug 6, 2020
Flood Poem
--me
Spill like the lover's feel
Spill but beware of the hill
Coz you get the dry wet
But not the warriors that stand still
The islanders can hear your roar
And instead move in the fore
Watching your might with a course
Hoping little of your force
Shaky of what you could bring
Banging the loam with an old shoe string
Neighbors have called the unseen trolls
Begging a sign that curse never stroll
But the warriors wait till fog and dews
To a corredor of the sunrise view
Where hearts strong and never melt
Even the water reaches the throat.