I'm all of the senses aloft mithral, killing, afire with knives& beating
We are the freedoms, the finesse to trust the ever free force of certainty\

Thaumaturgy brought an impaled branst, forever lights the sword cevies
And the Elven truce atones, all be gone tomorrow...the chill of ice's winter!

Tastes of the wilds
Taste of the flight
When the river runs through we're the forgotten light

Now we try leaving forced to behold such misfortune!
In flight, the killing asunder, as we never fear/ we're the warriors

Such spies, beacons, unhurting, so together we admit the furious belies

A god of Hell, the Gods of Heaven untrusting designs spiritual inside

Mithral and shallow

Tastes of the wilds
Taste of the flight
When the river runs through we're the forgotten light

A Sentient Throne

Never encouraged to sift past... through all fortunes light
Worlds, so telltale, conquered crusaders of will's plight
Listen there's sorrow, dispelled inside
The crystal courts.... and the battle is no more

Then oppression & control of the master keeper of doom
So they've burnt unto the cross... the witches soon

Let again our eyes turn to silver
Be against lightening fires, no quicker
A sentient Throne
One war with eternal war

Bittered lights cascading through dancing illusions
Twisted conspiracy/ to take the final weapon

Set to avow, to dub the final weapon
The harpies of the dark expel the send

Might and fury they're alive/ with the black forest alive
To those who are the seekers, to never land I send thyne
Let again our crystal courts clasp what our eyes find
Doubt within expels the treasure's cost and furious... that lays inside
Sentient silvers, veils of weapons/ the lore and the lost
Are you the witch's servant?... too quickly the ice pentagram defrosts

Can the war take away everyone's spiritual pains
God or Satan beseeches you/ the only path of completion is to be insane!
I'm still stunned it happened like this, a sentient throne!

Hello then goodbye
that's what a crazy girl once said then
spelling two four letter words
one that began with s and the other ends with C K
detriment
Probably Californian for rest in peace off the edge
of a pier then disrespectively placed beneath the pylons
bequeathed lack of knowledge "baby lamb'

It's a jiffy the mind of images moments that the
Witch refuels the same ****** game, that which is a same namesake
as mission from effort

Faulkner or Neruda each gets to the telephone
they have a writ of wit the right to disposition.....
Only I know the city is writhing
awaiting to indemnify the files of compulsory opportunity
as simply that sneering besmirching and scolding at their delight

A clown in a diamond cloud writing
only another storm when cause and
Keto and foreign and season tickets 'oh they only seek the same storm of lightening and receptions
of the slaps that belie truth as the norm

Attack, how mean was this merriment and a reach that supposedly was noted
as the free way to reveal simply... I know I'm ******

Yet words, a wife, a new girl, get on after that school girl, she moves and shows,
perhaps even a devalued face of the clock/ when grace solutions are fare
from the free norm and dissolving chemicals are back form
the(Guatemala) chicly revolution that cleans the houses and divines the water

Ahh such moorings in the swamps of the castles Christian permitting the crimped curls,
each associated table cloth was a certain tear
as the table was set

Each name writes an analogue and for truth the personal novella.(tell me something I don't know),
yet now and only now this opportunity shows the same place that all is so ****** stupid...
words can have only deviances so our reverie junctures allow

Form a game of great philosophies, we're at the games of realities,
yet such embarrassment of the errors that were left behind,
discover that these word games of humanity allow...
performance as the morality

Rather than all else fails,
continue to consider
the seasons for detriment,
the dirt of grim inner self reflection can also be indeed
the formulation from which all are playing their *****
& might even be the vitriol on the way to amorous
fluff which in turn entailed the solutions for redemption for frailty or numerous flack and epistemology
rain through the rain to return to 22nd century reality

Delicate Truths May be

Wings slip...
Wings slip and flap,
undersetten or with a twinkle,
  Twenty memories: a statue that's governing

Icons yearn
yet this platter, as the Tea Tree,
disseminates  scents for reality is of realms

This Hearth is set with invocations
and a summons to transfer
Wild Moon jive from Saints with answers
          
    To a wandering exculpated eye, it winces
     To weakness which exposes & affirms, the mint

That's the sort - memories, free thought,
From personal thought to zero signals...

Which of all this  places a tangent on panache on the path
  of our war field's signals...?

It's unjust to allow victory with allegory of causes and victory's style

Vices as a newbie, like chocolate's reaches and stretches
                                  &
reaching the great move and groove titles
to simply include that  on the inside, all thoughts, are messages of reason, satisfaction
and against all odds.
Now therein lays, factual chains, be they of... death eternal, decisions to decision or innate toast to freedoms
Well are all and any of all beings may emote, a wit thereof
Sixty years viewing the simulacrum the wrongs, reasons

Yet levity and acumen and even mere variance
ever intentions could take
forever the grandest stand
Yet throughout this self judgment real disturbance, fomentation,
and being vociferous  

Spikes so nervous, only still, the Machiavellians  pound and plan

What's that the wife's a waif waiting to jump...
A Letcher bloke divinatory, soars immersed.. for
surely not a bridge,
though the bridge, as originally makes
the best of life, finding arrangements in everyday folk

Better start off through the aerie, thoughts of angels, decisions lazy,
mirroring wit, refined is one's lady

We shall freely end, be at all variations that lead to yes
And the English, they'd say "a bird and a man...in pitiful alliance?"
Then rebel pitiful braggers and let the blessed now reticent prevalence
lead to the holy place that all useless Messiah's go,
Golden rings, imperial arts, fleets of fighters, there they eventually go

... Or shall we prevent the turning of the battalions the lilies of tigers turn to rot
Destroying the last of every pestilent fool and join now the man and girl
to sovereignty for the rightful expect not...

...Owners of pain that endure... such titles, askew ensuring criers, cry
to the horror or the faith and hopes bountiful

All beings amidst their struggles did find a bridge to cross
then found it better that together we jump and therein
what was Valhalla all of us nailed to the cross
and with serenity the what was our mutual loss
now is a governance of the pall, a regret, and the loss
that still can render exclaim truth
we shall all be elated

Human condition

The truth... the stars have notions that type a future
     that develop a world, the situation,
      that embraces various powers
  Pleading that plea the icon squeal
For the help, unknown acquisitions pounding, natural decibels, rhythm, drums

Play through the narrow minded clammy chatter
Hold the world, the cage, and lay unbroken
Upon the cold, loud, bed, enthralled, you lay for yourself

Known to exist across eternally the weaves of Absu and valiance
Unknown the assuming , mind speeds towards dispositions, necessitated existence
However people gore through free choice, acquittal for the taking
only ends with the sub sugary deep of the under realms of essence

So thus taken is the butterfly harm & triple the enemies,
one's self a radio to eternity

Wrong answers, a state of mind,  conned of knowing what you need to in assessment of one's time
   what was wrong is the sorry fool of yourself at war, hoping
    notions of the straining work to defile disown and nest inimical
     life..  that'd truly be a lie

When in life does my one and only marvelous love know that the iron glove and the fist of anger above is only winged by the
matrimony civil priestess dawning pure white gowns
she saw the deigning deviance and proclaimed all hail
haste to the ground haste... to the Earthy ground.

Files and folders- the Djinn and should we whelp?
the show has little purse for olders
What if its a trial, the young mock the one,
that skacks, when ale and saffy zing are the one?

Oh and that's not rather peachy, lily lithely matters,
and at the slip tongue the slap,
reality informs don't talk back

And thus any other force of reality,
perhaps is void, the cultural impurity,
it's deception they divinate on the impure
with aggressive discoveries
which might and mist at anytime say
I and I the holy I have seen and tasted that
which ye had, and make for rounds so sure,
to play my sanity as the fealty,
There's only the one...
then as it slips, what can one say, the femmes pop!
and they see it has a taste of sounds- for the civil.
You and them their all about pranks as you!
Places that understanding works words they scatter then reopen

As honey and reticence of the Witch, which everyone's former lords claim to own
This presuming light is pretty, makes not so much as a stitch in the running quilts
of time and the so pretty!... as what thy's Mary pushed and pressed into
awaiting war derivatives, malevolence and regress....

Then and now
my knife work was fully done
/ no rational texture, no performance,
for the play had been begun and won!

Now and Now not Then Yet, No! The twinkle that feaks off the emirate strain of pacified (pacific)
Phones, drops, lives, through every self vision of windows

Into a place which does displace my sanity and every sound!