The wind here is foreign,
An accent of thick whispers & voodoo.

There was a bark of ember,

A source of grace & her inevitable karma.

The burning coals leave levering zingers,
In the visible mist.

Destiny,
The charming embellisher.
Begins painting prosperity on the walls.
After all these long years of downs.
& with a whistle,
The silence is crystallized.
Detaching from the transparent water wings.
& preparing for the longest swim.

Just a sliver of ember,
Could embezzle, a country.