Slober knocked back to a cadence measure.
Turning in tune with the illusion of leisure.
Stand at fault, holding the gun.
Cryptic followings at the point of a pun.
Deny and defile the logic of man.
Floating backwards catching a cancerous tan.
Indescency accepted as common form
The policies for which are quick to swarm.
Holdings in life, seem to diminish.
Removed suddenly of their veenered finish.
Left aside as needless want
A proxy value for those too gaunt.
Picked up again by mimicing lepers,
Balling their eyes out as communication severs.
Catching a reflection in the glint of an eye.
Turning quickly, as not to pry.
Beholden, clearly, to a bare ideal.
Something tangible to which one would kneel.
Beckoned forth in a fleeting glimpse.
The man has not been heard from since.