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William Troup

Upon the Wildest Landscapes

Published on Wed, 25th Mar 2026 at 23:53

by William Troup

I. Upon the wildest landscapes, my heart did flail around; fractured skies did split the eyes, as nowhere could I be found. Honeybees play in rivers of roses, and where thier hearts rest? nobody knows. Fallen boughs cover the knolls where arrows aim for timeless goals; such merriment fills this wild oak heart, yet darkness looms in the morning light. II. Upon the wildest landscapes, my mind did wonder unbound; punctured soles did spoil these eyes, as nowhere could I be dried. Hummingbirds fly in velvet clouds, and where their time ends? drummers may know. More saplings are yearning for new skies where oceans leave the rivers dry; what madness lingers in pictorial scenes? now darkness hones the demons cries! III. Upon the wildest landscapes, my bed is riven by time; fissures leave their marks in gold ... am I awake? or lost in the cold?

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