My Home is my Wand and my Sword is my Shield.
Dost thou give in to the spell swords feelings?
Heavenly virtue all up in thy name, just to be stakened in digging my grave.
My conch is my ocean and the air is it's riches. Together they fight for the true place of hitches. Which end will you take when you marry the lake, our waters run shallow when the deepend is faked.
Naked is that which is shallow and the deeper end, well, it is the bright blue pen.
Both are for shadows of remembrance and that is why I log into ***.
Mother Mary said to me that my future is not a goat, no it's not, not even a libra, not a pen nor a stoke.
The power of my mind is not a joke, strictly reading will give you smoke...
so listen with thine breath and reed your fluted cheeks, they will give you access with the presence of meek.
My sword is black and furnished by rocks. My shield is sentient and the pinnacle is bought. Like a pendulum off of its axis I doth swing my blade and cherish the plexus.
Cherish the brother.
Can you bare face to my very sword, the chest I protect is forever aboard.
In the midst there lay a pearl, a misty blue conch to protect the world.
Green green greener than green, invisible lake to ponder the stream.
Orange orange, orange I forged, my mind is a person whose gotten much older.
Purple purple, purplexed intelligence, who have I not given any countenance.
Red red, redder than lead, my roots are not yours and my spine is my bed.
Yellow, yellow, Hello there my friend. Have you no shame? I'm already dead.
Seventeen minus seven, the one thing left is not on the bed. He geteth up into the future, time splitting crescent up into the solar.