A lying lamer links his boarding hands together
Wondering wildly how he got as far as he did
All together grateful that the snake pits he walked through
Were not created just for him

All luck must end like the water carrying aqueducts
And mastery is just a seven letter word
Which floats upon the air like dust
And offers of belittlement, feel like merits of professionalism

Clutching the beat of a love's fleeting heart
Catching the eyes of a disaster caused by the sinister
Hearing the the yells like bells from a ringing church
God lowers down is his sorrow filled hand in a desperate lurch

A cleansing has been happening in the eyes of the one's making the medicine
In the late hours of the morning of pouring brings death's snoring
Caught up in the dreams of an awakened state falsely elate
A truly somatic fanatic with a soul seemingly unruly

And a rhyme will no longer carry its charm
But lets not have everyone in high alarm
For the children upstairs are sleeping fair
In their dreams we shall not enter or dare