by Jón Valur Jensson
I'm carried high above this plain of sand|
in vision clear as coldest flashing light
that speeds from east to west through darkest night
and spells the ruin of a sumptuous land ...
They heard a thunder, as their eyes in awe
were lift up to the sky in fear of what they saw.
Copyright © 2012 - Jón Valur Jensson
Published: 3/29/12 · Author's Page · Next Poem