WINE AND GATES
Demanding The Sense A Shadow Is Entitled Too?
Lest with the mind...
Salt in our hand, to serve as a memory should
The cagey warding of simplicity in lines
Of youth and the yearning half, we seem to be, and with curiosity could?
Places of sense and lease, we will never seem?
The can't of real, the want of keep in time and heel...
The mystery of yet, the problem's of wishes that decided among keen
The wall's and over all, the paces of uniqueness we heal, with an each and feeling's...
Redoubt for simplicity's mind, that saved us from the word's
Of misery's yelling and silent hearing...
To which and otherwise new compromises, the cares of urges
So sated, that some even wouldn't, the stare of forces and leering...
Worth one more glance, if neither meaning or lies is our reward?
The language of similarity to seek devoid answer, for a life unknown
To waiting unction and the dread of futures in love with sin, sorry
But no beauty with a price on its head, is a prayer to something other than days renown...
Lived, not bruised, and with a marvel of senses repute
The ancient way with some's and the share of limit's in the villainy of curses, to tell
Is no impression of water's of need, and the seed of echoing soon...
With that shadow, you find so endearing, the moment's see the time's, like passion's in hell...
Salt in our hand, to serve as a memory should
The cagey warding of simplicity in lines
Of youth and the yearning half, we seem to be, and with curiosity could?
Places of sense and lease, we will never seem?
The can't of real, the want of keep in time and heel...
The mystery of yet, the problem's of wishes that decided among keen
The wall's and over all, the paces of uniqueness we heal, with an each and feeling's...
Redoubt for simplicity's mind, that saved us from the word's
Of misery's yelling and silent hearing...
To which and otherwise new compromises, the cares of urges
So sated, that some even wouldn't, the stare of forces and leering...
Worth one more glance, if neither meaning or lies is our reward?
The language of similarity to seek devoid answer, for a life unknown
To waiting unction and the dread of futures in love with sin, sorry
But no beauty with a price on its head, is a prayer to something other than days renown...
Lived, not bruised, and with a marvel of senses repute
The ancient way with some's and the share of limit's in the villainy of curses, to tell
Is no impression of water's of need, and the seed of echoing soon...
With that shadow, you find so endearing, the moment's see the time's, like passion's in hell...
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Demanding The Sense A Shadow Is Entitled Too?
Demanding The Sense A Shadow Is Entitled Too?