WINE AND GATES
Learning To Tell The Time In A River, Pinks?
poor
than owed a bread
the staleness of your war
is a larger than life ear, in the silence we fed
rich
than owed a fish
the steel of your itch
is a smaller than life ear, in the silence we wish
ousted from the marriage of versions, of words and the smell of cyanide
this cold order, in the name of a sliver of pie
in the name of any, myriad ordeals and the ache of a coughing child
clarity of a taste, in the show of ease, we describe as shyness
multiples of doors, in your breath, to kind for a shadow of time
told to be, the can't of share and the hair of again a mind
in the smiles of paces with angels, we know the riddle of a rhyme
to tyranny's of curiosity and the antipathy of a colorful light
selves and the hellion of wind, to remember a gorgeous mine
the our to found sour, the mix of need for a lip that warned
is this tragedy of silver tongues, the cloth or the service to why
that comes to choice, in the smiles of babes, where are my stars ever formed?
share with us a clue, of derisive now, and the gold of a shape of salt
if not sanity, to judge a hug of driven wills, for the domain of a cousin
the taller the tale, the smaller the wail, of liberty in the throes of callous
ways with a courage in the few, are you ready to live by the fold of beauty, to sin?
in a confirmed conveyance, in the same of show and snow, is a muse
known to control the mark of decency in our midst, symbol of dim naivete, or a quest
of lividness to claim, the meld of conscience and prescience, for a truce
we remember your pain, like the days between voices, the mirth and the silence
true, we are the vice of governed form to a shiny coin, in the way of solutions
err' to elected pomposity or the day of regret, to kindle a new flame
but a belly with murder to eat, is still a victim of what was a grim dissuasion
now is your plea, the burden of candor to peoples and the age of a seen aim
confusion or intuition
the tenth of your life, the length of your whine with a dread and foul odd in the hill
of choices and a number to pick, isn't the neglect of a stoic eye, the need of a line
in the sky for sense, a line for ages tense, and a line for what is a reason in health
than owed a bread
the staleness of your war
is a larger than life ear, in the silence we fed
rich
than owed a fish
the steel of your itch
is a smaller than life ear, in the silence we wish
ousted from the marriage of versions, of words and the smell of cyanide
this cold order, in the name of a sliver of pie
in the name of any, myriad ordeals and the ache of a coughing child
clarity of a taste, in the show of ease, we describe as shyness
multiples of doors, in your breath, to kind for a shadow of time
told to be, the can't of share and the hair of again a mind
in the smiles of paces with angels, we know the riddle of a rhyme
to tyranny's of curiosity and the antipathy of a colorful light
selves and the hellion of wind, to remember a gorgeous mine
the our to found sour, the mix of need for a lip that warned
is this tragedy of silver tongues, the cloth or the service to why
that comes to choice, in the smiles of babes, where are my stars ever formed?
share with us a clue, of derisive now, and the gold of a shape of salt
if not sanity, to judge a hug of driven wills, for the domain of a cousin
the taller the tale, the smaller the wail, of liberty in the throes of callous
ways with a courage in the few, are you ready to live by the fold of beauty, to sin?
in a confirmed conveyance, in the same of show and snow, is a muse
known to control the mark of decency in our midst, symbol of dim naivete, or a quest
of lividness to claim, the meld of conscience and prescience, for a truce
we remember your pain, like the days between voices, the mirth and the silence
true, we are the vice of governed form to a shiny coin, in the way of solutions
err' to elected pomposity or the day of regret, to kindle a new flame
but a belly with murder to eat, is still a victim of what was a grim dissuasion
now is your plea, the burden of candor to peoples and the age of a seen aim
confusion or intuition
the tenth of your life, the length of your whine with a dread and foul odd in the hill
of choices and a number to pick, isn't the neglect of a stoic eye, the need of a line
in the sky for sense, a line for ages tense, and a line for what is a reason in health
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Learning To Tell The Time In A River, Pinks?
Learning To Tell The Time In A River, Pinks?
