Cemetery Of Scream And Just The Birds...
Elegy of silent windows of wind in the boughs of the trees of the plain of lights wrapped up in a grief The crest of roof broken'n'left walls overgrown of grass'n'wine white shrub washed down of drops of storm windows bunged with rotten boards And just the birds live here wanderers from distant hills the bringin' the breath of a space breath of unreal impetus
