Words are easier to read and disect
especially when it's writers live in Timbuktu?

Why do books smell so good?
I know, I know the chemical truth
But ever wonder if its because the planet approves?
what if mother earth agrees with the use
cut my child down but write wonderful prose
dream a million things and use the pages to be verbose
explain something carefully, like mother nature would
if she could speak, and now she does, through books

Almost sad beneath their fantastic disguises, they crawl under the moonshine above. In a minor key, the lute strums— the marvelous night hums with the fervor of churning water; fountains of shining marble contain the ephemeral source, funneled towards heaven. Day breaks and moonlight slips away, the dancers abandon their masquerade and dissipate into the atmosphere. On the horizon, a castle across the yellow sea blushes pink, its shadow cast across the waves.