Instinct
Been the brief
Seldom in league, with a mar in the ink
Can I see you, when bests bring grief?

The written letter
And the pictures I will know
Saving lest for *******?
Is a reaching hope, all of a glow?

Done
And determined to see the final, light
Of exchange so minding a church of senses and fun
The waiting hour is a strange contender, for my might

Excuse me, or rise to the next hero
Houses of calamity and justice, saved true
The cold composure I have spoken so much of, owes
Me one more taste of peace, and the risks of youth...

Gone
And made with the hands of recognition
Will a world bespeak us, or is a waiting have, money
And the tale I told, to you, for the price of a friend...