New scenes seen
between three
beams. Streams
of white light
write plights by
rye bread farms.
Alarmed, were the
workers; surely
hurling any hay
bail unveiled from
summer's uprising-
-spring. Even though
I fling arrows like I'm
In a gladiator ring.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 5:18 AM UTC
New scenes seen
between three
beams. Streams
of white light
write plights by
rye bread farms.
Alarmed, were the
workers; surely
hurling any hay
bail unveiled from
summer's uprising-
-spring. Even though
I fling arrows like I'm
In a gladiator ring.
