Montana
Montana Derric Saville August 11, 1995 Sweet Montana sky, shelter me from the swirling, winds of madness. Tell me your song of woe, lay me peacefully inside your streams of vibrance, au vita! Gentle is the soft cloud hand, brushing back the rain drop tears, alone before your majesty. I run feckless into your overarching shadows, listening to your din of delights, sun racing westward, shadows greet my feet. Trapped, helpless to your beauty, stone face silence as my life walks past, my rooted soul
Content
Montana Derric Saville August 11, 1995 Sweet Montana sky, shelter me from the swirling, winds of madness. Tell me your song of woe, lay me peacefully inside your streams of vibrance, au vita! Gentle is the soft cloud hand, brushing back the rain drop tears, alone before your majesty. I run feckless into your overarching shadows, listening to your din of delights, sun racing westward, shadows greet my feet. Trapped, helpless to your beauty, stone face silence as my life walks past, my rooted soul
