THE MAPLE FARMS...
THE MAPLE FARMS...
The remenises of a lurky soul,
Echoing into the woodsy palms;
Where a lone monk wanders by,
Beneath the shodowy maple farms.
The rustling leaves chant along,
With the spirits of a heavenly song;
Where the saffrons of the dusty robes,
Glides along the mudsy floors.
The nightingale's feathery ounce,
Keeping up the peaceful chirps;
Along the path of the unknown monk,
Floating through it's misty errs.
Dawning into the nothingness,
Of the unending cave of the foggy irks;
Where the lone monk wanders by,
Into the darkened maple farms.