by FTS Miles   Apr 8, 2018

29 April 2015

Dominion taunts me,
surrounding me,
dwarfing me,
goldenfields swaying,
cold waters rushing,
rugged granite climbing
up to unassailable
blue, or maybe grey
before the onset roar,
but all mocking,
like this carrion carapace
disintegrating in motion,
all reminding
that I have only pretense…
but not dominion.


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