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My army snakes the mountain-tops
as fields and valleys rent,
The first to ever wear the crown;
laws of nature -bent.

Mother was my wife as well; she as me, a god.
Appearing again 'in-the-end'...
Apocalypse; I am the king
******(Nemen + Rud) German and Celtic. "Take," and "Red," ergo the Hebrew translation; "Taker of Blood." Sargon(Sar + Gun) Sumerian, "Serpent," and "Twisting/writhing," snaking; the snaking serpent. An epithet describing the sight of his army moving over the landscape. Serpent is Dragon and Dragon is King therefore the, "head," of the "serpent," or "writhing column of soldiers," is The King; Sargon.
In dusty fields of summer’s end,
Ancient fallow place from time,
Once was myth it did begin…
In writing, trade, language, rhyme.
Traditional rhyme
D Loup May 2016
Stay a while, just a little while longer
let me just retrace your face with my eyes
I'll memorize your sunlight gaze, I'll take a picture

Cause wherever you go is wherever I won't
And whenever I say, it's not that you don't
I just want you to stay, stay, stay

And every day that passes, my anchors get heavier
And whenever the wind blows, it doesn't lead me to you
I whenever I breathe, I can never breathe you in

So stay a while, I'll just take your picture
Every little detail, I'll scar on my walls
It will never be better than what's in front of me now

And by the time you read this, it's already too late
You're already gone and no, I'm okay
But it would be better to stay, stay, stay

And I'm trapped inside these words and pages
I've found that feelings don't go, they attach
And so wherever you are, I'll write about you

And I say no I'm okay just like the moon says
No, I don't want a brand new day
Dear,  I say no because you never said yes
It was the summer.
It was the summer
Of roadtrips
And heartbreak,
Of wave breaks,
And road rage,
And sunsets,
And guilt trips.

It was the best of times
And the fast of times
And the worst of times
And the last of times
It was the summer.

It was the summer of
Tollbooths and
Accelerating cars
And as quick as you go
You pull what chases you
Just at fast,
Newton laws,
For it was the summer.

It was the summer
Of never and always
Of fears and futures
Of clairvoyance
And of foolishness.

To look so on trees,
In Summer's waning scorch
And not see the leaves
Changing, is blindness.
But it was the summer
Of changes unseen.

Autumn slipped in silently,
Not through the back,
Like a servant,
But through the front door,
Like an assassin.

Words were had,

Shots were fired.

Summer is dead,
Cradled in Autumn's arms,
Green life turning to crimson
And yellow, and brown.

The past is only
As good as our last summer.
And this one, well,
It was the summer.
It was the summer.

— The End —