WINE AND GATES
Taste Or Races, Acts Halting In Death Takes...
god in love
habits of journeys, to finish an icy stare
play to may, the fair of dares to know
if to dream in but the language of where
we are a future with none
the commitment to ash and the face of flowers
in comparison to select our souls amid the shown
maybe in halves, maybe in salves, maybe in they'ves, sours
panic at a done song, wonder at a dim strength
liberty to suggest the nature of kinds, how is your hair now
well to being shapes of comment in the breath, of sin to kiss for length
many minds with a throat for themselves to know, is still comeliness all in a row
thorough, the taste of furies to give the new and soon a try
but a light to sit and make love...
the ours of duty and soaring who, if but a skill of needs in lies
will we ever seek our fortunes in the miracle offered, chaste
salt and shells of a sea thought to keep
in the stars to themselves, we have seemed the sovereignty of care callous
enough to encourage a hap for the rest of houses of doom and gloom, me?
in the end of youth and the yearning of who'th is our first, if not last, luster
doesn't?
yet to you, the capability of somehow and something, made to share
isn't the nature of solace your coin to the realm of presence that has, wasn't
angel wings? devil's horns? dragon names? internal clocks? naked curses? guided tomorrows? seers
habits of journeys, to finish an icy stare
play to may, the fair of dares to know
if to dream in but the language of where
we are a future with none
the commitment to ash and the face of flowers
in comparison to select our souls amid the shown
maybe in halves, maybe in salves, maybe in they'ves, sours
panic at a done song, wonder at a dim strength
liberty to suggest the nature of kinds, how is your hair now
well to being shapes of comment in the breath, of sin to kiss for length
many minds with a throat for themselves to know, is still comeliness all in a row
thorough, the taste of furies to give the new and soon a try
but a light to sit and make love...
the ours of duty and soaring who, if but a skill of needs in lies
will we ever seek our fortunes in the miracle offered, chaste
salt and shells of a sea thought to keep
in the stars to themselves, we have seemed the sovereignty of care callous
enough to encourage a hap for the rest of houses of doom and gloom, me?
in the end of youth and the yearning of who'th is our first, if not last, luster
doesn't?
yet to you, the capability of somehow and something, made to share
isn't the nature of solace your coin to the realm of presence that has, wasn't
angel wings? devil's horns? dragon names? internal clocks? naked curses? guided tomorrows? seers
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Taste Or Races, Acts Halting In Death Takes...
Taste Or Races, Acts Halting In Death Takes...
