Ramblings and Paintings of a Mystic Wanderer

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Lost

Lost...she finds herself

In the wasteland of many years....

dry lakes are mirrors for her Soul...

and

In the distance shimmers

the Oasis of death beckoning.... a resting place...

with palm trees of slumber... softly swaying

to songs of another life..........................where jungles,

green with youth shine on a new horizon,

glowing with dew...drops. of imagination. 

Posted November 21, 2011 by oshum