Lied
And with a whole luck
The thread of disdain, might?
Save a little more than futures to pluck?

Common, and due the stars?
Shadows of worth, that complete ourselves?
Shame and direction to a carnal heart?
Time in the wishes of another, that earned its wealth?

Tragedy, never more than else?
The cold shoulder of withheld wisdom
That calmly collects a shine of misery, and melds
Of complacency we set before ourselves, the pout of a question

Look
And seem the prowess of benign blessing
Have we begun a stare, with a realm to its touch?
Inclined to avarice, like a fool wishing more, was lessing?

Good natures...
The tender when of a consciences wind, now chosen to serve
The tale of guidance and aggression to a moment's cure
When poised futures have a lie to say, the length you took to learn?

Purity, not prophecy...?
Ably the quaint, to see the coming host
Not hot, not horror, not history
But a mind you owe with a miracles finger, that owes you back, liberty to a ghost...