WINE AND GATES
Wishing At The Well Of Is And Must Cost A Soul
press of compromise
the vault of sincerity, we make
for the cant or the want, the happier lies
in our fists for now, the culture of escalation to play with me, sake
ancient tones of voice, made from the brief imagination of sour
cruelty, in the firsts of season and the wink of domains, to come
for us, the ailing wishes of regress to nestle in the vow, worlds
of dark myths and the soul of lips of virtue, know where to put silence's some
breath, shared love, surprise for a show
clear as a mercy is, the clarity of choices
is burden in the skill, ordeals of visions know?
when of a salty kiss fresher by the stone, know a flower is your martyr, lovers...
if to correct, if to reprieve, if to composure adroit
the taste of supremacy for the price of consciences of sanity formed for more
the angel of war in the sore heed of silliness that comes, to live in your avoidance
if the kinder breed of such in love, we are the miles until a liberty has its own, courage
brass, almond in live, pacification as walls
more than these, the tour of dreams of a nation, is a larger than life
way with the baptism of gall to seed, the onus of ours, in the judgement to fall
in love, where even the care of sight...
who, what, where, when is a lip ever more excited for all?
when a heart has a home, in the name of a street to clean and eat
its own shadow for a thought, the tired eyes of suddenness in the mists of fallen
wishes in the way, of yearning and hearing the truth, many ways nowhere for all to leave
care?
even the tones of tomorrows voice, here in the fate of deed
is a livable like and psyche to own, there in the smile of panic and the metal of where
like forth to order in worth, what is to be a license of reason for the rest of us, she'd?
paint in your nostrils, pride in your hosted fill
of futures in the smoke of hysteria to call upon our, least
is then the tell of a new mind to the table, with a place for airs of wills to kill
a house of strangers seen, in the ilk's of curiosity kept, flames in your mind, cease
promise of sense form a face slapped with the shame
is my hour of shapes and the candor of inventiveness in the ravages of time?
lived, though dead enough to know the clash of seclusions in the mouth of sorrow, somehow lame
the truth has dwindled to nothing, but the course of a new morrow, in the head of sighs
the vault of sincerity, we make
for the cant or the want, the happier lies
in our fists for now, the culture of escalation to play with me, sake
ancient tones of voice, made from the brief imagination of sour
cruelty, in the firsts of season and the wink of domains, to come
for us, the ailing wishes of regress to nestle in the vow, worlds
of dark myths and the soul of lips of virtue, know where to put silence's some
breath, shared love, surprise for a show
clear as a mercy is, the clarity of choices
is burden in the skill, ordeals of visions know?
when of a salty kiss fresher by the stone, know a flower is your martyr, lovers...
if to correct, if to reprieve, if to composure adroit
the taste of supremacy for the price of consciences of sanity formed for more
the angel of war in the sore heed of silliness that comes, to live in your avoidance
if the kinder breed of such in love, we are the miles until a liberty has its own, courage
brass, almond in live, pacification as walls
more than these, the tour of dreams of a nation, is a larger than life
way with the baptism of gall to seed, the onus of ours, in the judgement to fall
in love, where even the care of sight...
who, what, where, when is a lip ever more excited for all?
when a heart has a home, in the name of a street to clean and eat
its own shadow for a thought, the tired eyes of suddenness in the mists of fallen
wishes in the way, of yearning and hearing the truth, many ways nowhere for all to leave
care?
even the tones of tomorrows voice, here in the fate of deed
is a livable like and psyche to own, there in the smile of panic and the metal of where
like forth to order in worth, what is to be a license of reason for the rest of us, she'd?
paint in your nostrils, pride in your hosted fill
of futures in the smoke of hysteria to call upon our, least
is then the tell of a new mind to the table, with a place for airs of wills to kill
a house of strangers seen, in the ilk's of curiosity kept, flames in your mind, cease
promise of sense form a face slapped with the shame
is my hour of shapes and the candor of inventiveness in the ravages of time?
lived, though dead enough to know the clash of seclusions in the mouth of sorrow, somehow lame
the truth has dwindled to nothing, but the course of a new morrow, in the head of sighs
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Wishing At The Well Of Is And Must Cost A Soul
Wishing At The Well Of Is And Must Cost A Soul
