Call Of The Wild Poem by Stuart Logan
Call Of The Wild
Tigers roar,
In my mind,
An echo of a sacrosanct religion,
Lost to the ages.
Birds cry,
Like the clouds above,
That weep a beneficial life,
Into the Amazon.
Monkeys play,
Every day
Oblivious to the investments,
Of the Forest's Death.
Tigers roar,
In my mind,
An echo of a sacrosanct religion,
Lost to the ages.
Forever.
Friday, September 5, 2008
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4/22/2024 12:43:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
