My country is my cradle, gently rocking,
gently spinning dreams of further isles,
prosperous waters and rivers of gold.
Dystopian land of watercolour sunsets
the fiery sea illuminates foreign pathways
and we know in our cold cores we must go.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
My country is my cradle, gently rocking,
gently spinning dreams of further isles,
prosperous waters and rivers of gold.
Dystopian land of watercolour sunsets
the fiery sea illuminates foreign pathways
and we know in our cold cores we must go.
