Archive for the ‘Ben Nardolilli’ Category

The Gods are too verbose,
Circulating demands
That tie one together
With people still stuck in caves
Or slowly baking in the mud.
I am tired of their voices,
Everything is thunder
And lightening to them.
Give me Nature’s song,
With no demands, only advice,
With a melody that mirrors
Everything there is to see
On the road ahead
That otherwise hides itself
With its own dust.

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