The Mournful Woods

Amidst the yellow grass does rise, A wood of thorns and twigs triple its size, Not a leaf can be seen nor a green glimpse, Not even a cactus but only dry timb's, A cacophony rise in the mourn, A drill of voices, in this wasted land, tone, Even the sky does weep, it changes…

Bloody Beach

Dawn awakes the bonsai tree, It's leaves are young and mellow, A song adorns the empousai sea, It's breeze hums like a cello, Long awaits the sand pit deep, Wave after wave it swallows, Strong but is the saline creep, It inches the tree to the gallows. Icons made by Roundicons from http://www.flaticon.com is licensed…

Bankallo

A bank is slow and steady, Like a buffalo in waters muddy, Swim across the river, it says, And find a pen atop the rickety canoe in sways, Only then will it create an account for you, you dummy.