WINE AND GATES
Home With A Satanic Liberty In The Patriot?
heard to earth?
the final note of a singing band
where the whisky flows smooth and the ice is murder
these shoes have missed, the count of a fertile land
penny proud, penny prose
of a diligent bird of rapport, to the nose was a life
that had the courage to find, the stink of ages, whole
to the neglect of sound, young gentleman, we see a night
songs draw on here, to form the stir of echoes
the wage to be earned from the sliver of a when's, if not wind's all
is the dress of candor with you, the voice of what owns
the many of a madness, the victory of limits over the thrall...
like wishes in the dole of the ley, the stain of origins is but a lurid craft
of kindred in the throes of a yearning for sanity's truth
the washed eyes of need, the stashed hides of reason, the clique of safety
is all a point to be made, for the talk of what was a family of cruelty
father cold, do you remember the eyes of your children when the kind came?
mother halves, the soul of your can is in the spill of might to show moons?
brother time, the stick of a shrewd tree has stolen your name for a honor in same?
sister lending, these stones of riches unseen know you by the tooth that soon's?
any more and its war, the causes and the call of affliction for the price
of consumption in the shade of a knowing fall, of the sight in the round
born with a paired secret in the hip of sexes reality for a moment, than a dole wise
when have a souls tears been any other, the curiosity of qualms in the stone?
spaces of human essence, in the brief way we know terror to be
the paces of hurry, the cases of curried lips, that knew the sate well being
aces of conscience in the heed of misery, for a nose anarchy
says a bird in the middle of the night, is this step towards light our only seem?
anger in the role of a soldier
the sitting cleverness for the rest of summation, to know a heart beat
the turn of chastity into a charity, a fool there
is a burden of causes, seen in the end of days, if not the deem of death?
guess of a tree in the merciless rain and its promising mud...
run, run little uncle of suspense, the tenth of your head a prize
angel of virtue in your path, hath you the question of gall for a sod?
little feet in the poise of cope, are you ready for a hole of lies?
the final note of a singing band
where the whisky flows smooth and the ice is murder
these shoes have missed, the count of a fertile land
penny proud, penny prose
of a diligent bird of rapport, to the nose was a life
that had the courage to find, the stink of ages, whole
to the neglect of sound, young gentleman, we see a night
songs draw on here, to form the stir of echoes
the wage to be earned from the sliver of a when's, if not wind's all
is the dress of candor with you, the voice of what owns
the many of a madness, the victory of limits over the thrall...
like wishes in the dole of the ley, the stain of origins is but a lurid craft
of kindred in the throes of a yearning for sanity's truth
the washed eyes of need, the stashed hides of reason, the clique of safety
is all a point to be made, for the talk of what was a family of cruelty
father cold, do you remember the eyes of your children when the kind came?
mother halves, the soul of your can is in the spill of might to show moons?
brother time, the stick of a shrewd tree has stolen your name for a honor in same?
sister lending, these stones of riches unseen know you by the tooth that soon's?
any more and its war, the causes and the call of affliction for the price
of consumption in the shade of a knowing fall, of the sight in the round
born with a paired secret in the hip of sexes reality for a moment, than a dole wise
when have a souls tears been any other, the curiosity of qualms in the stone?
spaces of human essence, in the brief way we know terror to be
the paces of hurry, the cases of curried lips, that knew the sate well being
aces of conscience in the heed of misery, for a nose anarchy
says a bird in the middle of the night, is this step towards light our only seem?
anger in the role of a soldier
the sitting cleverness for the rest of summation, to know a heart beat
the turn of chastity into a charity, a fool there
is a burden of causes, seen in the end of days, if not the deem of death?
guess of a tree in the merciless rain and its promising mud...
run, run little uncle of suspense, the tenth of your head a prize
angel of virtue in your path, hath you the question of gall for a sod?
little feet in the poise of cope, are you ready for a hole of lies?
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Home With A Satanic Liberty In The Patriot?
Home With A Satanic Liberty In The Patriot?
