"But high she shoots through air and light,
above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
nor shadow dims her way."
All through the pale unearthly sky,
she sails out on her way,
There's naught but fragile dragon wings,
yet naught can bound her way.
The winter winds and summer clouds,
the pale and sunlit, both,
Beneath the fragile wings speed by,
thus marking each year's growth.
And o'er the years that come and go,
how many seasons by,
She still shoots high, amidst the clouds-
She will forever fly.














Comments
I couldn't even tell your writing apart from the original stanza
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A journey of a thousand miles can sometimes end very, very badly.
Also, picturistic is officially the best word ever.
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I'm a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE.
Repo! The Genetic Opera [link]
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A journey of a thousand miles can sometimes end very, very badly.
Plus the bus.
--
I'm a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE.
Repo! The Genetic Opera [link]
--
I'm a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE.
Repo! The Genetic Opera [link]
Do they throw you overboard if you talk about non-boat related things?
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I'm a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE.
Repo! The Genetic Opera [link]
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