A wicked wind whips me front and back
As I walk thread-bare ‘cross a granule prickled shore
Into a blackening night.
A night to conceal and not reveal that ancient secret borne on stone
Which looms in all its fantastic hue,
Category: poetry
See right through you, Poetry by Leandra Olivia
A composed demeanor with guarded walls that are as tall as the one in Berlin; secured and strong. Despite, the steel built exterior; that was a front.
WILDsound Festival 