A poem
The Sayan
His hair lifts as if caught in a sudden breeze
It turns from a dark black, slowly to gold
His forehead wrinkles with concentration as
his eyes, slowly at first, then suddenly turn turquoise
He smiles as a ring of energy flows around him.
The Sayan
His hair lifts as if caught in a sudden breeze
It turns from a dark black, slowly to gold
His forehead wrinkles with concentration as
his eyes, slowly at first, then suddenly turn turquoise
He smiles as a ring of energy flows around him.
