WINE AND GATES

Soaking Up On Matches, Wealth Forbade Once, Said...

Too loose, too contrived
Peace is a sharing height, to a frank discussion
Made in formidability, the tooth we aired
Is a treasure to find, the ache of mustn't?

Salt in the night, to dance among the worlds lead
Sweet overtures, today was the coming and going, I hate
With the powers of distance and hindrance, comes the will to feed
The pure and the ascertained taught, worth one more syllable of fate...

Low to a running mans pride, and presence to win?
To an order of restitution, is a clash we understate, is heed among itself?
Tones of redoubt, and the vengeance of solitude, sat on an imagined chin
We select our future in finishes and gifts of purpose, to adjust to health...?

Willingness is an odder charity...
The tooth of wantonness, is as handsome as they come
Privilege and heraldry, to sing an opus to charms of vanity
The tale of uniqueness, for the role and doldrum of a new eye, to be the boding of home

Which is, which isn't...
Stomached persuasion, with the truth to kick into a corner?
We seldom see any other kiss, than a call to towering few, and their admit
Proud to differ or pretty to offer, a silence to the warner...?

Alarm in the middle of the night, a throe of light
On told you so, on toil in the meadow
Where once upon a time, is their a grace to share a fiendish compare, for plight's
Some fingers never survive, the wishes we saw granted, by a darkness we never allowed...

Tantrum of persist and integrity to gage a sake
Well worth a privacy's notice, the talk of shadow and hostile eyes
That collect but one marvel, the intuition of sanity's bed, to make
With the delicate fingers of tradition in flames, keeping what we know about you, fight's...


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Soaking Up On Matches, Wealth Forbade Once, Said...

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