Golden dust blows in the wind,
Circling above his head spins.
Hercules even bends his knees
And trust the golden thrust
from the golden dust is hard as
Elephant tusk made golden seed trees.
Awwww. The memories of the Valkyries
Join the festivities it's just me and Socrates.
And a few of the annunaki, a few other fellas
I believe them to be Portuguese.
They are all pretty chill; pretty Stella
This poem sounds pretty cool acapella.
Streets of gold carry fleets
of chariots of fire,
golden desire burns like golden fire
lifting me higher and higher and higher.
Fired up on the cusp
These rhymes are pretty
ridiculous; plus, there's still
Golden dust blowing in the wind
Circling above his head spins.
Black Hemmingway 2013 ©
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