Queue the laughter.

I'm building a justified war-
Sorry little animals dirtied and poor.
Eat portioned joy you faith-filled fools-
Soured with lemons tasting of ardor.

Perhaps my beast feels shame-
Wither my ego or find he to blame.
Sink the crescent ship below blue-
Fill the sea with smoke and flame.

The dark woods are a bear's back-
Smelling breaths of heady lilac-
Rummaged pines sticky with lines.
Here, there rest no lies or fact.

To let you know of what's today-
We are breaking the yoke in a brand new way.
Sword-toothed sharks battering at our waves-
Keeping the skeptic fish at bay.

A fellow's greed inspires response.
Please halt at none's giver.

Abuse, outwit, abstract a renaissance-
Forge thou's own exalt, fill thou's quiver.

O You. .  . the wise and kind-
Hath no courage to claim realms dictated.

Sin! Tis' a sin of your mind!
But forewords have been slated.

May yellow riches fill smooth shells-
And truth belittle lies from false prophets.

Lay on your bounty, chime thou's bells-
See thy's truth shun false promise.

O Sweet almighty my lover lies-
Carried to mountains that silhouette skies.

By a demon mightier than your power-
Scheming to *******, force, and abuse her flower.

Who wolfs such hate, vile and cruel?
Me! For I am the beast that fathers no rule!

Ignorance envenomed my scrupulousness ears-
And gave tribute for lust to find what he hears.

My compass became dwindled but pointed true-
Such guidance, yet pique and repulsion grew.

She watched my footprints with rapt eyes-
And scoffed at my kind-furred disguise.

O why was I a fool to a lover so dapper!
Now the water runs unclean in the cold shower.

Rancid is a man who records his ***** being,
Grim is the one that goes without seeing

Who am I to shape my own perception
A mad man? Or perhaps worst. . .
A man who is self aware of his own sanity
But never has lunacy tasted so balanced

The waves on the shore serenade me
And the palms bow to their new king
But if all is common and all is real
Then I am not worthy of godliness

I ponder of creation above the skies
But unafraid of an invisible creator
Even the poorest man knows my ways
I am not sculpted in perfection

Perhaps my greatness is shown fate
Or crippled in a scene of a shoreline
No
Paradise is untimely for my fault

The lavender is laid in the sand
And there is no text written
I am still a shattered man without a cause
I am unworthy. . .

There is something hiding behind your face.
I can tell because you have a subtle twinkle .
Not just in your eyes, but hidden in your features.

It's like you know something ,
or maybe you're up to something.

I can't find out what it is.
You are the only one that knows.

Does it shine because only you can hold it?
Does it make you happy knowing only you have it?

I see that it makes you happy.
Your lips heel.
Your eyes illuminate.

You have a certain twinkle.