Everything what goes up must come down. The only thing on this earth that doesn't is your age.

A true intellectual must learn how to read and write with thoughts of the mind. knowing the ways of our true intellectuals in our time.

Artisticology is the worship of art.

My emotions gathered in the mist to confess my undying love for thy. With spells of the sun peering through a solement cloud showing we had so much fun. To show our love affair carried on till the morning sun. My lucent heart beats with a plenum of sensations to fill the stars. In a void of pure pleasure to never relinquish my feelings I have for you my darling Janet.

These badmen had a evening of excursions hidding from the devil inside. With wild eyes of pretension from heartbroken minds knowing  love was to hard to find. Unhinged and unhinded it showed a different state of presence. He knew his actions could be accountable  as he looked upon a golden leaf with only power stopping him from being a thief. As his preternatural transparent humour saved him from crying when his dad lost his soul in the dead of the night. Reflections of the past echoed in his heart as trampled shoes dulled as woman and men heared in like cattle. While power hungry relatives circled the room in a coterinous space longing for a prosperous life. Reading there will of there destiny a solicitor looked upon disbelief knowing only money could contain there grief. As a glint from the moonlight showed silhouettes on a cold wall. While he's free in a merciful maze as they all wondered what will happen in this limitless time. With contenous holes that soiled his body in a unmarked grave. Just as perfumes and aftershaves masked a holy smell hoping his spirit goes to heaven not hell.

She had a concierge to hold her thoughts in the verge of her passionate highs. To a lady you must tell no lies because it's best to speak the truth or prepare to have arguments before you cry as they say there goodbyes. Why do we lose before we can win in a world full of sin as we lie in wait for virtues that are not made of our own. While we sow the seeds of regreat what's left without love to burden our hearts just as hate poisons our minds. In a time of commitment that never leaves our souls all alone facing the bitter edge in a world full of love we pledge.

The pageantry of bliss gathered in the remoteness of solitude with insufficient conquest that brodens the soul. As Christmas mornings engulfed the constancy of his beating heart. Just as a sporran beneath the waves divided his world from land and sea. While a thorn tree shared the night with death as a lonely bird perched on branch at the end of her tether. As the ground wiped it's stone of empty coals in the fowls stood the richness of life preying on mankind's window.