Will Broadhurst
Will Broadhurst
A heaven’s touch
Of flora and fowl,
Gone with the
Hungry beast’s growl.
The viridian land
And the cerulean sky,
Gone before the
Lazy beast’s eye.
Now perched above
All others, alone.
The beast sits
Upon his concrete throne.
For it is what we take
That we cannot give,
And it is why we die
That we cannot live.