Grief
Eye was alive until eye died and eye did love ewe until the end of this my time and eye was wanting us to be together until the very moment of the end until the bitter task at hand consumed me in my sorrow and my need until the quality of life outlasted my span of indiscretion as eye died. Until the mortal came uncoiled at the horror of approaching doom and all eye had was sorrows in the places filled with gloom in the apple of my core there is no one to call my name she seems to have forgotten that eye came that the man was made of love and kisses too what bitter root of pain has taken seed inside of me in place of fruit and wholesome loving and worthwhile love. eye live with grief eye service none. eye wrestle with the sorrow of not knoeing what eye am of never kissing my own daughter at her wedding or making beds in flowers rows.
Eye fill my days with grief eye make this visage old. Thus my sorrow is complete this is my grief that eye am old and seldom wanted anymore. my name is mud.
my time is grief my quiver cold.
