Ev'ryone loves the comely words,
aches f'r the disconsolate ones,
Prayeth f'r the gentle,
And taketh the jarring.

Relateth to what thee shall,
Taketh to aught,
F'r coequal if the syllables art simple and plain,
Thy spirit shall alloweth the tongue,
Residence 'long with the emotions,
The thoughts and the instincts.

Thee wand'r in the words,
To seeketh harmony,
Concord in relation,
Familiarity in thy plight.

The expl'ration of if I,
Can findeth aught of this,
In mine own writing,
Remains to beest concluded.

Melting like a crayon
Near an unattended flame
The equivalence of a boulder
Under a microscope
Just can't escape your heat
Can't escape your gaze
Picking petals across the room
Must be self-sabotage with
The amount of implosion going on
Dangling on every word
No different than a cigarette on lips
And there won't be any end
Till one of us decides
Who ruins who tonight