Landscapes
We all envision times of great beauty. Where the wind takes us across the winds of rememberance. To the scents of our childhood. basking in the suns rays. We thirst for the unquencchable. The undeniable animal within us. Becons us to run. Wild, under mother’s watch. Her golden beauty eminates all around. We are slaves to her will and we will die by her hand. Yet as we lay upon her breasts. In that moment of peace. We gather our strength. For that one last glance. Of her beautiful Landscape.
