An expressionist; I know no art,
The narrative cannot be ceased.
A Wordsmith's heart but a hundred holes,
Prose flows through, and ballads seep.
The narrative cannot be ceased.
A Wordsmith's heart but a hundred holes,
Prose flows through, and ballads seep.
Nectar, in beloved's praise,
Pours from the honeycomb.
Venom for the asperser,
Burns in the infernal tomb.
Pours from the honeycomb.
Venom for the asperser,
Burns in the infernal tomb.
© The Godiva Expression – Anum Ali
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