WINE AND GATES
The Yawn Of Sweet Adding And Pained Form
fright of the odd
silver whistles exchanged, for a silence
the truth in a more, to the lowly and sudden
maybe in the calm, of our best seasons chance
monuments to a liberal excuse, the spite we envoy
in the still lucrish aim, of aiding the sigh's
as we are, the though of reason, reach for a nerve coy
the tooth of passion in the way, of a cool decision, for what wry's
the turn of secrets into the service of waiting, upon a some
the count of reality in your hand, the candor it took to wish for more
the rage of sensations of the reign, to know a harrowed question of come
the act of depravity in the still welling eyes of vice, the image of worth
sent with a beautiful kiss, the naked essence of all
the role we took to the living guidance in the vision of breeds
the terror of seclusion in the blessing of conscience to fault
seem and knees of justice for the cough of a sincerer heeds
would you...?
some never did
the hope of a single witness due
to simplify a guess of audacity, good riddance...?
had like a kinder stare, the token of love
is forever the dour sign of something more, if not anxiety
of the way we were, weird though a lip may know, a covenant
in the safety of another, this regret of sanctity...
silver whistles exchanged, for a silence
the truth in a more, to the lowly and sudden
maybe in the calm, of our best seasons chance
monuments to a liberal excuse, the spite we envoy
in the still lucrish aim, of aiding the sigh's
as we are, the though of reason, reach for a nerve coy
the tooth of passion in the way, of a cool decision, for what wry's
the turn of secrets into the service of waiting, upon a some
the count of reality in your hand, the candor it took to wish for more
the rage of sensations of the reign, to know a harrowed question of come
the act of depravity in the still welling eyes of vice, the image of worth
sent with a beautiful kiss, the naked essence of all
the role we took to the living guidance in the vision of breeds
the terror of seclusion in the blessing of conscience to fault
seem and knees of justice for the cough of a sincerer heeds
would you...?
some never did
the hope of a single witness due
to simplify a guess of audacity, good riddance...?
had like a kinder stare, the token of love
is forever the dour sign of something more, if not anxiety
of the way we were, weird though a lip may know, a covenant
in the safety of another, this regret of sanctity...
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
The Yawn Of Sweet Adding And Pained Form
The Yawn Of Sweet Adding And Pained Form