WINE AND GATES
Stir Of Echoe's And Chasing War For Jade
sandy stares
in the till of your oughting scare, the nose of avarice
is a walled myth the name of the terror's
chance upon chance, the love of reality is...
sand remembers what made a body good, to the world
for out the time of seldom, in the path of an uncoming sunshine
the words of poets and warriors forgot to the world, come in the for the day early
waiting on the brisk breeze to name my again, we still the works of a universal why
saviors of since, will note the candor of an angry thumb
the merit it made, the stare it saw fade
is a closer honor than we thought the courage to hum
in the still hills of odd, the sheerness of a smile to rage
saviors of a stone, speed to a climbing hiss of the laying mete
the metal of sincerity to confirm the silence of history in the distance
walking there is a clash of surmiseal's, but the wind will know the heat
days gone by for the seclusion we form with a time in toe, we predict the instance
saviors of rhythm, shall know a conscience, in the drift of strength
to the fast, the inferior form to keep, the play of form
is a levity of senses made for the greater, patience of a myriad soul's length
in the spilling now, the nerve of an eye that says the brides of the morn
saviors of a shade, till the moisture of essence seen, is a prayer of higher entity
energies of quiet lives will continue, as a shrewd mercy is made
to the feint is a reason in the said question, for a fruit of ordeals to come for humility
per the staying power of a cleverer survival of the found, is a place for the sight to wade
sharing the water's of calamity, salt is a reason in the duty we find
where the liberty of shapes and colors of the wishes of men, make perfect lives
for the deem of courage we all see in the mouth of deliverance for a truth's time
kept with a charge of decency for the issuing call of worth we select as heaven give's
in the till of your oughting scare, the nose of avarice
is a walled myth the name of the terror's
chance upon chance, the love of reality is...
sand remembers what made a body good, to the world
for out the time of seldom, in the path of an uncoming sunshine
the words of poets and warriors forgot to the world, come in the for the day early
waiting on the brisk breeze to name my again, we still the works of a universal why
saviors of since, will note the candor of an angry thumb
the merit it made, the stare it saw fade
is a closer honor than we thought the courage to hum
in the still hills of odd, the sheerness of a smile to rage
saviors of a stone, speed to a climbing hiss of the laying mete
the metal of sincerity to confirm the silence of history in the distance
walking there is a clash of surmiseal's, but the wind will know the heat
days gone by for the seclusion we form with a time in toe, we predict the instance
saviors of rhythm, shall know a conscience, in the drift of strength
to the fast, the inferior form to keep, the play of form
is a levity of senses made for the greater, patience of a myriad soul's length
in the spilling now, the nerve of an eye that says the brides of the morn
saviors of a shade, till the moisture of essence seen, is a prayer of higher entity
energies of quiet lives will continue, as a shrewd mercy is made
to the feint is a reason in the said question, for a fruit of ordeals to come for humility
per the staying power of a cleverer survival of the found, is a place for the sight to wade
sharing the water's of calamity, salt is a reason in the duty we find
where the liberty of shapes and colors of the wishes of men, make perfect lives
for the deem of courage we all see in the mouth of deliverance for a truth's time
kept with a charge of decency for the issuing call of worth we select as heaven give's
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Stir Of Echoe`s And Chasing War For Jade
Stir Of Echoe`s And Chasing War For Jade