WINE AND GATES
Chewing Sand In Place, With Mind's Duty...
Saint Michael isn't the hate...?
opportunity mocks, for a quiet interlude
with a bed of roses, and the milk of human fate
sadism is such a lovely wink in the hood?
the role of youth versus the comb of the ages
where is the have of yearning, that made me a said tooth
the ripeness of the times, the rigor of patience in faces
insidious with a smile for each his care, the walk rueth...
the kiss of a dementia, in the limelight of images found anon
hints and a mouse of a journey, to the toes
of indignancy, the collected thorns of a wrong?
in the golden sigh we oppose, the future as a limit to woes
wouldn't, shouldn't
done with jude, the fury of a stare
in the cool night, about the stone we dance
with the courage of succor in the may, ahem, laughs and lent
around and around, the fusion of flowers for a silly thought
is a water in the fall of the moon, the time until we are
the portion of mine and yours, the sacred and the not
with but a kinder kiss, the reason of the season's warmth
scars in the touch of a lover, the nature of a sincerer call
to the neglect of sobriety that has somewhere to owe
gone, upon the still aching air, of version's of simplicity and respect of a wall
made to order, the vision of guilt and the beauty of ilk, is such to know
opportunity mocks, for a quiet interlude
with a bed of roses, and the milk of human fate
sadism is such a lovely wink in the hood?
the role of youth versus the comb of the ages
where is the have of yearning, that made me a said tooth
the ripeness of the times, the rigor of patience in faces
insidious with a smile for each his care, the walk rueth...
the kiss of a dementia, in the limelight of images found anon
hints and a mouse of a journey, to the toes
of indignancy, the collected thorns of a wrong?
in the golden sigh we oppose, the future as a limit to woes
wouldn't, shouldn't
done with jude, the fury of a stare
in the cool night, about the stone we dance
with the courage of succor in the may, ahem, laughs and lent
around and around, the fusion of flowers for a silly thought
is a water in the fall of the moon, the time until we are
the portion of mine and yours, the sacred and the not
with but a kinder kiss, the reason of the season's warmth
scars in the touch of a lover, the nature of a sincerer call
to the neglect of sobriety that has somewhere to owe
gone, upon the still aching air, of version's of simplicity and respect of a wall
made to order, the vision of guilt and the beauty of ilk, is such to know
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Chewing Sand In Place, With Mind`s Duty...
Chewing Sand In Place, With Mind`s Duty...