He lives poet lonely,
Her eyes are the guidance.
He's bothered familiar, as
She's making the tide dance.

He's glad for the distance,
For her lines, he does lean.
Though introverse common,
Many states lie between.

He found her by chance;
By a binding in art.
Of converses deeply,
He hopes this is the start.

Bills piling shots firing I'm trying to find a way
Introverse with her whining carrying on now confounding
Uncomfortably I lay arrest the facts on should I stay
Consideration out the door confide my thoughts ample the roar
Patience, interests, attachments, evanesced
Love, desire, allegiance, suppressant
Quiescent our days spent questions asks nowhere to vent
While time progress the strongest may stick thus, what is done we forget is effects of Decay theorist
Faults will be blamed and blames will be fault
Obsessed with an solution that disinterested us with doubt
Moue and pout scrutinizing about ubiquitously we well figure this out
Grind, fail, comes with travail enough of both will prevail
for the time being mistakes are edit abate, the ****, cusp, the tail,
CREDITS

I sit humming
My innate blues
.
Amidst
the dead air of graveyard
That is listening
To The music
Of cracking skulls
.
When I am dull