WINE AND GATES
Wishing Wheat Has A Penny For My Thoughts...
guaranteed odd
aweful is a land onto speed
the throw of light that saw
is a heaven that knows heed
we know it deemed better
the fuse of the future to live with came
a hard place named to the letter
shapes of things to come are a has of same
the luck of a dragon
thus the voice of whistles and epistles of a cloud
that pretty rage in the heavens
is a herald of the song of the whimsy of the proud
liberty knows the cant of unity
is here a draw of breath, for the names of persistance
could the wrong of vice, seek the chance of lunacy
this is the door of common ink, paper and signifigance
meaning the milk
we seek the reach of mere to know the life of another plan
is this ear the fury of means to an end, like the belly of ilk
we see the reasoning of a mighty press of a sense given
vision of a metal in love with the burdens of salt
the things of mortal kind and dust, is your face a livid question
of mercy to the nerve of hence, as we ought
these keep the prayers of mystery as a poised gesture of wishes
this is the ends of the world's charity
back to sacred, the few of could in the terror of mired love
the rest of the story is in the presence of disparity
to symbolically wise up to the stare, is here thus...
aweful is a land onto speed
the throw of light that saw
is a heaven that knows heed
we know it deemed better
the fuse of the future to live with came
a hard place named to the letter
shapes of things to come are a has of same
the luck of a dragon
thus the voice of whistles and epistles of a cloud
that pretty rage in the heavens
is a herald of the song of the whimsy of the proud
liberty knows the cant of unity
is here a draw of breath, for the names of persistance
could the wrong of vice, seek the chance of lunacy
this is the door of common ink, paper and signifigance
meaning the milk
we seek the reach of mere to know the life of another plan
is this ear the fury of means to an end, like the belly of ilk
we see the reasoning of a mighty press of a sense given
vision of a metal in love with the burdens of salt
the things of mortal kind and dust, is your face a livid question
of mercy to the nerve of hence, as we ought
these keep the prayers of mystery as a poised gesture of wishes
this is the ends of the world's charity
back to sacred, the few of could in the terror of mired love
the rest of the story is in the presence of disparity
to symbolically wise up to the stare, is here thus...
Comment On This Poem ---
Wishing Wheat Has A Penny For My Thoughts...
Wishing Wheat Has A Penny For My Thoughts...
