The Lion

Another year changed, turbulent and wild. Where the horses are born, stallions galop into the horizon to be burnt by the evening sun. A word more, a word less, does it matter when you think about the progress?

"If all else fails you can still whip the horses eye"

I'm not sure if I whipped it, but reborn I was.

Another year closer to death ;-)



For those who like my poetry, here's a work you will love :-)

This is Not About What You Think