The tepid waters touched the silvery graces of the waters nigh..
Beyond the glances moving in mirages
the skyscrapers stood in a concrete jungle
clustered amidst a shadowed ploy..
The aura of its appearance that of one without an
interest in life...
Staid, naked to the eye
they house the spoken tribe.
She walks into the warm covers of the waters
One of a sigh..
Warm, inviting - an ageless pine..
Her feet glistening amongst the myriad of colors
Watched by the concrete
in a wave of guilt..
for nature dances
to the warmth of her feet..
the shadow of the concrete
a nation's pride...
mais il est
le langue de musique au m'inspire
que je rechercher.