Whispers of laughter fill the emptiness,
pitter patters of throats distract voids.
Rain-filled calms pour until they are gone-
as an echoed call traveling beyond.

Oh acceptance. What a pure sound
that lays forever in good,
withholding kindness behind cabinet doors
and pleases the beast within.

Hanging over a wood shed-
You explained it all.

The shot the finish-
The silence and the call.

A tongue of truth-
An orchestra of teeth.

A surface of symbols-
With answers beneath.

You built us a Kingdom-
Founded upon woes.

To know we are here-
And to be here to know.

You are magic, you are fine-
Blessed be your spoken flowers.

I'd share your honest throne-
And be the prince of nothing that matters.

I'm on the verge of restlessness-
but I feel so new.

I'm on the end of righteousness-
could I live for a view...

or a moment.

Frozen.

Eating, sleeping, repeating just to hear some moaning-
where does the end feel fine?
When do we know it's calling time?

Do words last longer when you write them in rhyme?

I sure hope so.
I really wish so.

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