The savannah sun begins to riseand paints the blackened earth in amber glowgilding the ground beneath the open skiesa prelude to what I have yet to knowI wander on while morning winds now riseand whisper truths the ancient grasses...

This is just the epic I recite—another lie dressed up in light,one smooth line at a time,dripping honey, sweet with rhyme.In the hope it might concealevery raw wound I still feel,tucked beneath each crafted line,woven threads in grand design.More...