Toll of an evening bell
Of a land far away from sense neither
Welcoming the scope of sharing, seemed little
The rue of roles and omnipresent goals, is a requite to bare?

Many and dread; the toil of another eye...
Followed briefly, to wind a searching cause
Simple lows and metaphor, with a sincere edge for why
Is a shadow ever mere, and dear, to ways we laud?

A riddle that makes the night a special peace
A privilege in tantamount time, of questions and answers
That when dismayed, has the voice of anarchy
Intimate, but ****** to rights, adds the humor of heed; to learn...

West with the common, the vices we assure are may in motion
If but a seemlier kind, to these we knew a reason about a shown
And carnal liberty, with which we keep ourselves all and any, a devotion...?
In the aspire of coping, a handsomeness that delivers a promise known

Whimsy stands before a whether, and a care of silence, comes into view...
Trees and fruit, pets and forsooth, are we the people of candor?
That when asked to lead, a marvel of must if the name of doting shew
Shrewd is the cold shoulder, of more than a clash of distance with more?

So, what remains to gall, is a friend in needful deed?
Or was that a paradises fall, into the arms of reality, sake
Of a wish that completes the tact, we envoy is a careful means
To an end, that works like this, can hope become a call to make?

Out
And about the swallow of pride, that made us
Confirmed sincerity of an asking patience, is worth now?
Or if how is to ever be, the gift of poise to claim ourselves thus?