Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Monday, 3 May 2010


I hurtle through the tunnels seeking haven
While behind the silent predators give chase
My ragged breath and clattered feet resounding
Stale air gives way to fresh upon my face
Just ahead I see the door of dazzled morning
Dissolved in red, for I have lost my futile race
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Spagphacious Aeolotony by Philip Damian-Grint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License
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