WINE AND GATES
Understanding A Dour Child
been, busy, bush
the fruit of our labor, is a waiting shadow
of a chance to enliven, hush
the season of limits in our palette, we are glad to owe
but the fish say we are stupid, a child will offer
the knock of immersion into the world of watching for waters rebut
the nye of substance is a shame to even bother
the stay of walls of sugar never seen, the kind of thing one knows does
but we know sweet to only be the kind of thing we want
the saged opinion of calm and could, to take to the liberty at hand
as we are, the reasons of virtue is made for those that can't
have the succor of intimacy that once made the land
but the sea has a fruit of better design, always
like the fish showing a courage to rot, the wake of semblances is a share of odd
the cancelation of sin is a frequent discuss, the panic of all his day
the life of religion seems to be here, the care of kinds that keep the holies laud
but you ate the fruit did you not, and see the care which we attain
perhaps the sea is a place of dread and death, to make a new face for eternity
the substance and the bide of curiousity to acclaim
the very salt of the idea that has us as a dream, for intuition's affinity
but that makes us, well, angels
like the stars themselves, we design our way about these
the vile of nuance that is discredited in the end would suggest, the barrener of hells
the greater the reward of a honors sublime mete
should you ever know a kiss...
the walls you seem to think are too high, are but a sigh of justice
the way to a remnancy of callous jude, is an hour with a lord of dependency's wish
that frank observation is more than you would know, even in the earth's patience to promise
then i shall eat
and if what you are saying is true, my mouth will give a gift
that is better than gold, copiously shaped and flatly beat
does this ire of sour demand, make me a proud sniff?
the fruit of our labor, is a waiting shadow
of a chance to enliven, hush
the season of limits in our palette, we are glad to owe
but the fish say we are stupid, a child will offer
the knock of immersion into the world of watching for waters rebut
the nye of substance is a shame to even bother
the stay of walls of sugar never seen, the kind of thing one knows does
but we know sweet to only be the kind of thing we want
the saged opinion of calm and could, to take to the liberty at hand
as we are, the reasons of virtue is made for those that can't
have the succor of intimacy that once made the land
but the sea has a fruit of better design, always
like the fish showing a courage to rot, the wake of semblances is a share of odd
the cancelation of sin is a frequent discuss, the panic of all his day
the life of religion seems to be here, the care of kinds that keep the holies laud
but you ate the fruit did you not, and see the care which we attain
perhaps the sea is a place of dread and death, to make a new face for eternity
the substance and the bide of curiousity to acclaim
the very salt of the idea that has us as a dream, for intuition's affinity
but that makes us, well, angels
like the stars themselves, we design our way about these
the vile of nuance that is discredited in the end would suggest, the barrener of hells
the greater the reward of a honors sublime mete
should you ever know a kiss...
the walls you seem to think are too high, are but a sigh of justice
the way to a remnancy of callous jude, is an hour with a lord of dependency's wish
that frank observation is more than you would know, even in the earth's patience to promise
then i shall eat
and if what you are saying is true, my mouth will give a gift
that is better than gold, copiously shaped and flatly beat
does this ire of sour demand, make me a proud sniff?
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Understanding A Dour Child
Understanding A Dour Child
