WINE AND GATES
Yell Ably And Fold Upon The Charisma Of Thought...
play upon a stone?
the walk of god in the smiles of others
the rank and file, of demons with a hour, to atone
the think of devil's in the name of dares, of nothing serve
the lord in his pulpit, the fury of worship and the meter of his voice
compare or die? the walls and the pace of reticent nerves
the irony of gold, in your nose, for but an our, and a world of choice
the legend of dim something in the brim of home, and the swing of a tree to earth?
persons of cowardice and the sword of craving, for the need of the known
in the miles to the treasure of call and they'll be, the doors of love
in a way to confirm the since to seasons, of strange virtue and sated blood
account to vows of staring, the only prayer he ever heard, the riper the sewn ...
sense from serious days, of succor and the thumb of pristine, hidden
from the mine, the cope of dread and the hope of death
to work for a change of reason, in the angels nye, for a passion with oiled bitters
of peace and the yeast of breeds, in the moments until you know, you are the heaven
now or never, the guidance of simplicity to show of water, and the fall of souls
in the myriad shames we call the role of verve and the heard laugh of more
than else, we know the mutual lips of kinder grace, for the selection of old
and the hap of a knowing eye with no future but yours, in the name of a war to thwart
tall is the number of a share in the guarantee, short was its pathway for truth
in the score of doldrums and the menace of a new similarity, to find a heart
the skill of deeds done well, for the shall and the not of all and a single youth
at a lovers love, the inclusion of some and any for yours, the shape of things to start
panic at the sight of used rhymes and the risk of earned hinds?
told to an ear called simply mother, fate is a raging fire best meant to live
in the silence and the hair of chances of continued shadows and the are of religion
to simply grant another's wish, your face, my fate as a need in the dark to give
does this foot of excellency and the mar of orchestration have the senses for ideas?
does this smell of responsibility and the civility of courage, come with a price?
if not pride, the still of the night shall answer all, to any who is, free
collected with a bell, long before the platter of omniscience, this is the ordeal of vice
the walk of god in the smiles of others
the rank and file, of demons with a hour, to atone
the think of devil's in the name of dares, of nothing serve
the lord in his pulpit, the fury of worship and the meter of his voice
compare or die? the walls and the pace of reticent nerves
the irony of gold, in your nose, for but an our, and a world of choice
the legend of dim something in the brim of home, and the swing of a tree to earth?
persons of cowardice and the sword of craving, for the need of the known
in the miles to the treasure of call and they'll be, the doors of love
in a way to confirm the since to seasons, of strange virtue and sated blood
account to vows of staring, the only prayer he ever heard, the riper the sewn ...
sense from serious days, of succor and the thumb of pristine, hidden
from the mine, the cope of dread and the hope of death
to work for a change of reason, in the angels nye, for a passion with oiled bitters
of peace and the yeast of breeds, in the moments until you know, you are the heaven
now or never, the guidance of simplicity to show of water, and the fall of souls
in the myriad shames we call the role of verve and the heard laugh of more
than else, we know the mutual lips of kinder grace, for the selection of old
and the hap of a knowing eye with no future but yours, in the name of a war to thwart
tall is the number of a share in the guarantee, short was its pathway for truth
in the score of doldrums and the menace of a new similarity, to find a heart
the skill of deeds done well, for the shall and the not of all and a single youth
at a lovers love, the inclusion of some and any for yours, the shape of things to start
panic at the sight of used rhymes and the risk of earned hinds?
told to an ear called simply mother, fate is a raging fire best meant to live
in the silence and the hair of chances of continued shadows and the are of religion
to simply grant another's wish, your face, my fate as a need in the dark to give
does this foot of excellency and the mar of orchestration have the senses for ideas?
does this smell of responsibility and the civility of courage, come with a price?
if not pride, the still of the night shall answer all, to any who is, free
collected with a bell, long before the platter of omniscience, this is the ordeal of vice
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Yell Ably And Fold Upon The Charisma Of Thought...
Yell Ably And Fold Upon The Charisma Of Thought...
