Sta.sh
Hey 2 the dA-World 
There's my second photography-collection. My choice are silhouettes especially "silhouette in amazing sky's". I hope you like my choice and support them...
Many of them are under 20
...but why?!</i> 
Silhouette...
THE sky-line melts from russet into blue,
Unbroken the horizon, saving where
A wreath of smoke curls up the far, thin air,
And pints the distant lodges of the Sioux.
Etched where the lands and cloudlands touch and die
A solitary Indian tepee stands,
The only habitation of these lands,
That roll their magnitude from sky to sky.
The tent poles lift and loom in thin relief,
The upward floating smoke ascends between,
And near the open doorway, gaunt and lean,
And shadow-like, there stands an Indian Chief.
With eyes that lost their lustre long ago,
With visage fixed and stern as fate's decree,
he looks towards the empty west, to see
The never-coming herd of buffalo.
Only the bones that bleach upon the plains,
Only the flesh less skeletons that lie
In ghastly nakedness and silence, cry
Out mutely that naught else to him remains.
...and now enjoy!!!</i>
:thumb54677400:
:thumb50017770: 
:thumb48738147:
:thumb63490594:
:thumb76621619: :thumb61938051:
There's my second photography-collection. My choice are silhouettes especially "silhouette in amazing sky's". I hope you like my choice and support them...Many of them are under 20
...but why?!</i> Silhouette...
THE sky-line melts from russet into blue,
Unbroken the horizon, saving where
A wreath of smoke curls up the far, thin air,
And pints the distant lodges of the Sioux.
Etched where the lands and cloudlands touch and die
A solitary Indian tepee stands,
The only habitation of these lands,
That roll their magnitude from sky to sky.
The tent poles lift and loom in thin relief,
The upward floating smoke ascends between,
And near the open doorway, gaunt and lean,
And shadow-like, there stands an Indian Chief.
With eyes that lost their lustre long ago,
With visage fixed and stern as fate's decree,
he looks towards the empty west, to see
The never-coming herd of buffalo.
Only the bones that bleach upon the plains,
Only the flesh less skeletons that lie
In ghastly nakedness and silence, cry
Out mutely that naught else to him remains.
...and now enjoy!!!</i>
:thumb54677400:
:thumb50017770: :thumb48738147:
:thumb63490594: :thumb76621619: :thumb61938051:
~inimitablenina
Apr 22, 2008
