WINE AND GATES
Which Is Done, Which Is Gone, Which Is Wrong
Just in tried...
Then to eaves we keep, for an answered whole
Issue's tantamount and the might to mind
A harbinger of cope, to sake with overt hap, and your soul...
Been the same, being the salvation
Wealth in your stinging eye's, said to tradition in a haze of courage
To welcome the silence to its haven't, the redress of unity in void since
Terror is to be a befriending heart, will we be a source of all that is new and legendary?
Gift's of urges and the many evolved to a dear tone...
Of voice worth the now, to take a healing house in the fold, a breath, to seek
The marvel of antiquity sound, by the rue of cleverness, we do make home...
The toil of your memory for a sanity in portion, with guidance as a new gift, to let
Hell's bell's
And the wayward thieve's of heaven...
And the courage of another, to wake the did, of a cold shoulder
That remembers the distance to wisdom, jude, love even honor given...?
Paces of dread, never drempt of before?
The walls you made, and the avarice of stead we encourage for a bright moment with sin
The collective sound of it, the arms and half of sincerity we have, for another seemly war?
Is ours, anymore, not yours, for a requiem of seclusion and the turn of chaste, into amends...
Hatred is what is, exact or dependant on a heart of habit or heed?
The condition of your feat of surprise and lie's you make so well known, for a child of year's
That wealth is a place of praise and predator's, blindness and blessing, lechery and lead
To a guilty fire in the hope, of a simplicity to beckon the mere, to save the curse of tear's...
Maintenance of joy, that seems to be our revolution, working for the sense of appoint
Well to do and with the laugh of depravity, we come to expect from the corner's of your silence
Known one, no one has seen the compare of your eyes to shadow in the firsts and lasts, annoint
Of meager love, to swallow the conscience of another, that has savior's of can and not, meant?
Then to eaves we keep, for an answered whole
Issue's tantamount and the might to mind
A harbinger of cope, to sake with overt hap, and your soul...
Been the same, being the salvation
Wealth in your stinging eye's, said to tradition in a haze of courage
To welcome the silence to its haven't, the redress of unity in void since
Terror is to be a befriending heart, will we be a source of all that is new and legendary?
Gift's of urges and the many evolved to a dear tone...
Of voice worth the now, to take a healing house in the fold, a breath, to seek
The marvel of antiquity sound, by the rue of cleverness, we do make home...
The toil of your memory for a sanity in portion, with guidance as a new gift, to let
Hell's bell's
And the wayward thieve's of heaven...
And the courage of another, to wake the did, of a cold shoulder
That remembers the distance to wisdom, jude, love even honor given...?
Paces of dread, never drempt of before?
The walls you made, and the avarice of stead we encourage for a bright moment with sin
The collective sound of it, the arms and half of sincerity we have, for another seemly war?
Is ours, anymore, not yours, for a requiem of seclusion and the turn of chaste, into amends...
Hatred is what is, exact or dependant on a heart of habit or heed?
The condition of your feat of surprise and lie's you make so well known, for a child of year's
That wealth is a place of praise and predator's, blindness and blessing, lechery and lead
To a guilty fire in the hope, of a simplicity to beckon the mere, to save the curse of tear's...
Maintenance of joy, that seems to be our revolution, working for the sense of appoint
Well to do and with the laugh of depravity, we come to expect from the corner's of your silence
Known one, no one has seen the compare of your eyes to shadow in the firsts and lasts, annoint
Of meager love, to swallow the conscience of another, that has savior's of can and not, meant?
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Which Is Done, Which Is Gone, Which Is Wrong
Which Is Done, Which Is Gone, Which Is Wrong
