Monday, October 24, 2011

Caliban

The wind in my hair,
the stars in my eyes,
I will ever live like this,
the son below the heaven's stair.

Oh my life is killing me,
but the rain is cool,
it makes me lie on grass,
and dream like a fool.

For ever and ever,
I would dream of grace,
purity of the jewel sky,
the thunder cloud's silver.

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