No more but faith

My world is rusted and don in a hoarfrost coat to make a bard of hustler gods had to skip the code
this may seems wild but gods are making things not always as mankind no soul have wings
and yet it’s rises all along or wind — a jolly lad despite the lack of tongue still whistles like a mad
my world is straight and narrow as poet words demands no more but faith of ever-anxious gods






