No one mentioned I was born in the city of Indra with wings of gold because the idea of them knowing less than I did terrified those horrible souls.
How would the transient light heads know that the fire burning within me setting souls ablaze could never be put out. The water would bow and the doves would dance under the early Summer's moon only if they had let my wings stay. Now doves wait by the tree at the end of the town for the mad hatter in me to flip a coin and pick the right night to send the time bound heads to hell //ndcb
