Revision #3: I would greatly appreciate any of your minute or longger commentary you might care to give on this piece...it's coming from a brilliant photophraph, found on the below listed link, & I want to really represent this "beyong-me" brilliant anrtist the utltimate that I can because this pictue is just so increbibly striking. I did go out on the limb, using imagery, my own personal touches & even personification to get a feel/ grasp of the theme I am trying very hardly to supply to the reader....All the help I can get & will make a note to comment on each on of your's upcoming as well :) Looking forward to it (Dovina & Ranger!) Here goes,... I advise looking up the photograph: http://www.picassomio.com/art/28160/ en/ Black and white shyly set behind Shaka’s devotions in fuchsia robes, inside smoldering smog, mocking their light-plan. Temples penetrate the background, gauntly grey, in purpose to exaggerate the tree that other elements bend for, fanned rivers of twig and branch. Aged temple, vain by inevitable showcase, vain and perfectly centered. Whatever the make, the ground appears as wet concrete or planar dirt leveled and splayed by rain. Monks scourge the air of sly whispers, as the light-lovers purge through in the their cloaks and unfolded fans that align in mustard for forecasted showers: denying fog, lugging fog from the only colors that stand alone – brave soldiers in this mist… the stone that pierces the fog’s indifference.