Black sun The pool of lights on the lips of a black sun do not sleep. Her fair -hair slowly creeps and curves like the strings of water binding the victoria falls and Some of it climbs the air that stands tall while its sharp glitters sets the wind ablaze . With her shoes She gently stings the floor And Guarding Flowers and towers shake with heavy awe as their skins turns swiftly to be hugged by the shade shadding off from her glowing saul. ©wingless poet in tempting winds Hope for treaden melanin
