WINE AND GATES
Languishing Amet And Found Pity Is, Silence?
tea to dwell, in ours for a sanity
terror to serve, the counted sheep of deeds
thee in the sour praise of cordial society, to clarify ease
thorough in love, with an aged mind, to calm the seen
hours to fashion, the still thriving senses
in these wishes and misery for hushes
is the coping house to come, for a last in ends
of haste and halting done, the secret of bushes...
safety of a postponed race, to the stir at the window
in a harping dread is the shall with the callous, of known
causes and cessation for a quiet, thought to be a collected owe
hunger of hunted natures, hatred of none's nuances, chemistry saving those
wind in the house, to remember the candor of vice, to collect a single laugh
the notion of excellency and the act of portion, in void contortion of seclusion
in these ways we develop bests, and the honor to question a similarity to hath
the tone of our voices, the triumph in our adore, of the world for a rancor's intuition
sanity? homes? assumption? misery? evil? sensation?
how in the sour places we deem to be our duty, is the mercy for a gaiety?
even in love, the rued ourselves and the pressure of distances to each other, limit
the taste of prayers in history, to the semblance of seasons for life's spontaneity?
cold reasons, warm hearts
with a poise to collapse in front of each other, the times to themselves
in a way to call upon the severity of coarse heed of the new, we are a mind that starts
right here, where the hell among the waiting and sating of youth, is but a handsome wealth
terror to serve, the counted sheep of deeds
thee in the sour praise of cordial society, to clarify ease
thorough in love, with an aged mind, to calm the seen
hours to fashion, the still thriving senses
in these wishes and misery for hushes
is the coping house to come, for a last in ends
of haste and halting done, the secret of bushes...
safety of a postponed race, to the stir at the window
in a harping dread is the shall with the callous, of known
causes and cessation for a quiet, thought to be a collected owe
hunger of hunted natures, hatred of none's nuances, chemistry saving those
wind in the house, to remember the candor of vice, to collect a single laugh
the notion of excellency and the act of portion, in void contortion of seclusion
in these ways we develop bests, and the honor to question a similarity to hath
the tone of our voices, the triumph in our adore, of the world for a rancor's intuition
sanity? homes? assumption? misery? evil? sensation?
how in the sour places we deem to be our duty, is the mercy for a gaiety?
even in love, the rued ourselves and the pressure of distances to each other, limit
the taste of prayers in history, to the semblance of seasons for life's spontaneity?
cold reasons, warm hearts
with a poise to collapse in front of each other, the times to themselves
in a way to call upon the severity of coarse heed of the new, we are a mind that starts
right here, where the hell among the waiting and sating of youth, is but a handsome wealth
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Languishing Amet And Found Pity Is, Silence?
Languishing Amet And Found Pity Is, Silence?
