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wind chime
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Nature it boils right down to the cutting edge of hate
so pure
it hangs glistening with a soft sound
trinkleing beam
a soar a whoosh flirting with it's song
wind wails
a single design of mind on beauty to amuse
the founding
hovering by life on the arena untouched/unmoved, shriking
hanging place
the suspense secured not, swaying in all guidlines
how is moves
given to thee with no great deal of thought, with no love,no care, no expectaionts of real gratitued,
but amused was i, it was ment for, it was unjust beauty called
how it got there
