Lit and spit
Spite, is a light your only reward?
Fineness of a rumored pillow, is my only wit
With the hands of fate, can a halo of shrewd form...?
Almighty, and hadding the spell
You put in my eyes, the rage of a destruction
On the make, the sake, of a fake ought, in the eyes of hell
A world of an alienated wish, has a quiet question...
Baby enemies, with an answer on their tongues
Speed and the demon I meant in a bride I vaunt
Has no future except the shine of a robust martyr, to which a run
To hell and back, is mine for a deed of whistles and a haunt
Daddy, the image of granted heed, is my nobility
Not the smile you put in my hand
Dare the beginning of a whole seem, of probability
Your season of worlds to weigh, has fallen in love with you, for a strange...
Man, with no eyes, silence is my star
Sense named, in the voice I save for you, is nowhere
Greatness, in the cope and stir, where am is for any groomed hair
Treachery, a flaming since in the charity I suppose is a miracle's stare
Go away, until the secret of a mother is a better sigh
Salient, if not sentient to a creed has a reason to live
Pride in the spare and true, speed is my inheritance come why
Is an eclectic world of familiarity, a rare deed of ages coming for his and her, lion?