Feral Garden Testo

Where beasts, tired of roaring, rise and
Gaze at the sky, and are there so many
Of them 'cause they have a different
Vision of God?

Where low bird brings the gold of
Sunset and all the might of it's
Conflagration; lions dream, having their
Faces on pads.
Garden, garden where wolves lick cold
Iron and the glance of a beast
Means more than wisdom itself.

Garden, we haunt with ease-
Feral in the masses
Garden, man-made cosmos.

Where eagle falls downwards like idol
From temple roof,
And sometimes he seats with a wings so
Strangely spread.
Does it seem for him he's
flying high over the mountains?
Or does he pray?
Or is he hot?