WINE AND GATES
When Doles Make Hurried Smiles, Houses...
colder by the count
with a dreaming mind in the pass
the riches of urges to fend for, by the honor of sound
the language of liberty is more than a care at asking
kissing the prophet?
the mastery of voice, is a world onto itself?
even so, the terror of misery let
is a wicked thumb the date to keep, into the wishes of kind we delve
passion in our midst
the magic of unity to find, in the curse of courage's end
is a wine, the tarter tooth to play ordeal with?
the focused eye of tyranny has a chew, then the right to bend...
the pride or the paradise...?
the fickle wish of a demon in the prayers of another?
if the could with the should, a patience and wise...
is a lover the only way to garner a future for bother
the mask of sin
staring at the pining of a sullen regard
the watched for fruit of simplicity, they offend
the tale is spent, upon the needs of charisma to ward
what is this to do with a smile of day's oddity?
anarchy is among the poor, to find the laughing of sincerity
energies torn from the tongue of differences, to the judgment of audacity
this kind reality, is more than a presence for the ply of persuasion's city
does this smell like flem, maybe even a female at even
the tawdry truth in honor over the mark of superstition
is a quiet hill of reproach, the chance to render an egg believing
in the still cold remains of a lucre in the poised intuition...
with a dreaming mind in the pass
the riches of urges to fend for, by the honor of sound
the language of liberty is more than a care at asking
kissing the prophet?
the mastery of voice, is a world onto itself?
even so, the terror of misery let
is a wicked thumb the date to keep, into the wishes of kind we delve
passion in our midst
the magic of unity to find, in the curse of courage's end
is a wine, the tarter tooth to play ordeal with?
the focused eye of tyranny has a chew, then the right to bend...
the pride or the paradise...?
the fickle wish of a demon in the prayers of another?
if the could with the should, a patience and wise...
is a lover the only way to garner a future for bother
the mask of sin
staring at the pining of a sullen regard
the watched for fruit of simplicity, they offend
the tale is spent, upon the needs of charisma to ward
what is this to do with a smile of day's oddity?
anarchy is among the poor, to find the laughing of sincerity
energies torn from the tongue of differences, to the judgment of audacity
this kind reality, is more than a presence for the ply of persuasion's city
does this smell like flem, maybe even a female at even
the tawdry truth in honor over the mark of superstition
is a quiet hill of reproach, the chance to render an egg believing
in the still cold remains of a lucre in the poised intuition...
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When Doles Make Hurried Smiles, Houses...
When Doles Make Hurried Smiles, Houses...
