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Do we fall Before they grow old or Were ever even born to be felled? The stock still Tellurian laud In mode of passion Specific not yet pacific; Or are we pushed? whilst Love is left to rot and the Vast xoanon pap unmanifest To cede within the catacombs Cooking carrots and peas in the same *** Like a Hymn of Ascent As you cannot shake hands with A clenched fist or Angels breath Upon purities ruination,- Hells favourite fable A fairy-tale admist humanity A nursery rhyme at will Memorized by demons Of the helved simony Forsakenly told of The souls nexus and an Enchanted book writ in heaven Owned by God. ELEETE J MUIR
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Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
Countanance
Do we fall Before they grow old or Were ever even born to be felled? The stock still Tellurian laud In mode of passion Specific not yet pacific; Or are we pushed? whilst Love is left to rot and the Vast xoanon pap unmanifest To cede within the catacombs Cooking carrots and peas in the same *** Like a Hymn of Ascent As you cannot shake hands with A clenched fist or Angels breath Upon purities ruination,- Hells favourite fable A fairy-tale admist humanity A nursery rhyme at will Memorized by demons Of the helved simony Forsakenly told of The souls nexus and an Enchanted book writ in heaven Owned by God. ELEETE J MUIR
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eleete-j-muir
Written by
Australian
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
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