WINE AND GATES
Paying The Piper With The Worlds Reflection
not the even, for sound reasons
i'm the sorts, of a change to know
in the score of appetites, and the quality of seasons
isn't the sate of argument to keep a dusty show?
of dim nothings and the glare of some
the worth to tell, the future in its fell
way with a shadow of chance, for a quieter come
the times are for the share of hysteria, if not the meld
laugh if you may, the toward shape of turning means
myriad to the eye, in the sense of lucid form
the waters of kindness in the corner of seems
isn't the cult of sighing at the rhymes, of fortune to be a new norm?
proud as a day gone by can be
the wait for dissuasion of the facts, in the hands of call the whole time
is but a risk of simplicity to find, the cure for angry
winds under the mask of visions from the need of any, the shame to mine
gone with the whimsy of dreams and the lived dour
the shadows have become a sorrow in the stir of things to love
the walls of bother themselves, the candor of worlds to wonder
the kiss of shame in our means, to simply know a patient us
truer
than light in the valley of death, dread is ours for a song
the nature of kingdom come, in the still unrelenting gift of due
in the spill of days in the fist of senses to know, the heart among
i'm the sorts, of a change to know
in the score of appetites, and the quality of seasons
isn't the sate of argument to keep a dusty show?
of dim nothings and the glare of some
the worth to tell, the future in its fell
way with a shadow of chance, for a quieter come
the times are for the share of hysteria, if not the meld
laugh if you may, the toward shape of turning means
myriad to the eye, in the sense of lucid form
the waters of kindness in the corner of seems
isn't the cult of sighing at the rhymes, of fortune to be a new norm?
proud as a day gone by can be
the wait for dissuasion of the facts, in the hands of call the whole time
is but a risk of simplicity to find, the cure for angry
winds under the mask of visions from the need of any, the shame to mine
gone with the whimsy of dreams and the lived dour
the shadows have become a sorrow in the stir of things to love
the walls of bother themselves, the candor of worlds to wonder
the kiss of shame in our means, to simply know a patient us
truer
than light in the valley of death, dread is ours for a song
the nature of kingdom come, in the still unrelenting gift of due
in the spill of days in the fist of senses to know, the heart among
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Paying The Piper With The Worlds Reflection
Paying The Piper With The Worlds Reflection
