the politically incorrect warrior of these with green stacks
the yellow sun had risen after the fact
shining brightly onto a plate of sparkling greenery
a salad of the senses, spotted with black pepper
so delicious you can taste the brown dirt
rich with death and salty white grains
among them, an amber nugget from a forgotten god
a nod toward the heaven's and all that's blue
a place where we can drink the red wines and swim in a river filled with glistening honey
eyes so green they lure you in like money
that sinful colour of greed
who needs gold?
when I'm here in my bold suit with green stacks
I shall paint my lips red and never look back
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