and raven hair

Slow it down and take a breath – hurry only hastens death. From the hilltop mountains high loudly sounds the eagle's cry shrill its warbling crass its tone bouncing over rock and stone then it meets this human ear and I think Oh, what's that I hear? Timmy's lost in yonder well and gone is youth's short-lasting spell and now I sit here old and frail with little but a chair and pail? Ah whatever all is good for bright is my impending mood and soon I'll meet a woman fair in spandex tights and raven hair.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥