Aptly, the irony we face
Is a friend to accuse a skill
Is a weirding hour, with a roaming praise
That has the dealt card, we saved for a thrill?

Spectacle, and the spy of done don't it...
Wither, blister and peal
Given the gift of sight, to remain a bespoken whit
Neglect is such an awful way to go, to peace's and heel

Aspire in the name of austerity; felt and selection
To take the time with a care and its hither
The promise a fading day has said, fascination
Is a small miracle, if anywhere is to be that friend, still aired

Pence, predictability, and powers
That begin in the limelight of our soul, joy if not coy
Simple liaison to remember the stir of when things come, even sour
The rise and fall of lead unrest, is a saviors swallow, with albeit a coin

Money that can spent better, with a friends ear
Half and strength to let, a careful ought, to these we set to rights
Time immemorial, the sense to live in the light of what we fear
And its order of bile and silences smile, still wishes we know, might...

No one, in an unusual harmony
With time to remember the future
As shrewd as I want to be, was curiosity funny
When I stepped forward, with it's flower?

Stoic to see you, in the act
Where the columns of sadness suggested
Is a heart for once, and for all of eternity to ask
The reasons for us, are meant and lead?

But a sneaking suspicion, never did it cross your face?
When without a problem to serve, the toil of sensitivity is
Loan me an ear, when the times are a changing one, an appeal of place
And the courage to speak of the devil, when ears are a nativity...

Panic at my side, I will introduce you as a friend
With truth to spare, and boding in eyed facts
Places I have seen, with a plan for each who would, a hand
Of virtue to examine and ploy, as if a truth is in the acts

No one...
Is a meaning for here and after, by the want of themselves
Guarantee in vexes fate, God in a round excess of destiny...
With the wishes you made, when shadows name their wealth?

Brown is our promise
Spoken like a true champ
Till a height of a comely vice
Has the spark of intuition, claimed and

See the little knuckles
To remember the tone of our voice
Shrewd difference, and its wishes in the wills
Of a new friend, that has the embarrassment of choice

Golden is our heed
The truth in a riddling portion
To save the irony of succor, which even is with eaves
And the excuse of enlightenment, to understand worse sin's

Save the music, break the wind
For a melancholy doubt, the indigency of verse
Left to wiser investment, asking a particular kin
Is a road to hindrance, the only way a cough can see, the universe?

Hallowed heathen
Sophistication with our willingness in view
Supposed halt, to a cleansing sun's ray, when
Sour news comes for a baffled friend, shrewd and due

West?
With a common coldness, and its fierceness to serve
A charity in an overdue loan, of when minds meet, minds lest
The callous same; the coy need of names, and courtesy...

Now?
Long to riddles we find in consciences gird
As long as you take the time, a policy of sound...
And lights fame, to cares we make for a subtle world

Eaves?
Given the lips, none and the march of time
Will a gift of a kiss, save what has more for insight, than what hope leaves
The thought of decency to any who would, the simplicity of trying

***?
Certain to the lion as well as the lamb, the advent of what wishes expect
Shown the mutual any, a muse that comes by its own, an honor let
With us, the calming and arearing breed of anarchy, we substitute yet

Here, after...
Never more than a silence broken, a challenge of went, with hurt
The promise of sincerity is to be a considered home, with which anger
Is a legend to bare and feed, with passion's embarrassment, a waiting season's mercy?

Name from a blossom
Found in the rivers curl
Proof for a saving grace, the sense of freedom
With our duty's all in a row, listening to early...

Antiquity knows an avid favor, the toll
Of berries brief and the solitude of an irony's tree
Looking for home, when sense is to be a clouds roll
Far away in heaven, the integrity of a weal, we see

Everyday
The tongue of persuasion and the portent to eschew good
The coming hour to heed a windy hope, a sun's ray
And a liberty to unfold for the purpose beyond wouldn't

Sated by the sigh of sensitivity
Even the crude mars and spills of life
Have a stock to take, and its inner nobility
Worth once a step found, in the wake of forever nigh

Night comes, and the tooth of witness comes to play
Aspect chilling, the mine or the sign
Of choice in a careful soon, a hindrance past the lips to say
A habit is our undone, and given wrong for same, our time

Light comes at last...
Spill of ideas, into the mercy we fueled by purpose unknown
Until a shadow has become the soul of our heed, so fast
We are the used and the abused, of a rage of lies sown...

Dark urges
In the behalf of a youth
Full of vim and vinegar, surges
Of wantonness to look for your couth

Spare and set to spaces
With the rule of thumb, we so decorate and honor
Lest the culture of ignominious races
Freedom from a cordial both, the very idea of the world

Songs set to flames mutual, a lyric of also
The irony of voices, that communicate to the soul
Speed in the airs of simply, the road to more
Notion and ergo, the places of lips, with a dole

Sense we shall add, the course to succinct eyes
And the notice of maybe, one more time, with a rage
So profound, that some would in this corner of the sky
Saving only their worthier kind, to keep a trail to legend

Luck breaks at dawn, when has not was is a hallowed turn
Sated with a reach for silence, and the none in a patient light
Many and heathen, the tail of a beast ready for wishes we earn
In the name of done and come, the service to ordeals with wars sight

Tale to tell
To a frightened bird one day
Salt and guidance to a fire make comfortable
But the cold of silence in the tree's, of disdain or dismay?

Ought on unity's chin?
The talk and the seclusion we expose to unique...
Airs and driven knowledge, the count of wins
And the spurning of hope, as a friends gift to a table, a clique?

Of sincerity to consider gone, with a might so done
The ruse of vice, is in the bespoken hands of courage
To continue with a reach, we sate and realm with sanity, home
Is a catching health, to couth; a misery ours for a wagon's wage?

Beckoning hellishness?
Time to well upon the naivete or needs of a stone, the breadth of shadow
And its becoming inspiration, the cold corners of ambiguity, bastion and death?
Are for any of a mix, that has the same in mores, we predilect and owe...

Common practice, if not method in a dread triangle...?
So sweet, so enamored, so entangled with a coping house
That has seen the future of the truth, the tale to tell...
A handshake of call and cooperation, that knows life is thou...