Press for service
Animosity to venture forth, a liberation
Of calamity in vow, the unction to list
A rage in our dependency, to know another question

Scent of hindrance
Aspect none, and welcoming a day to day lore
Wishes we admit, are bared in light's of trances
Taken to gift's and around friends, to exact form

Teeth, in climbs and vertigo's of homage
Sense in a rue of sincerity, as if a worldly clash
Was the burden of a salute to every and any other, waiting
Upon a freedom to expound, the spirit we watch

Going back, for a seldom in due, views
Wasn't and history to fall in love...
Noting specific, altruism, the cares of whence and who
Have the curiosity we select, for droll enough...

Tears?
Where has a silent benefactor been?
Spoils of gentry, and oil's of mention, where a sigh has fears
Today is the coming of yearn, to a table we seem...

Poem of a richer nightingale
To tell a tradition to look where no man has a swallow
True to vanity if a reach has ever for a light to fail
Patience is a virtue, until you have none for misery that hopes