Kindness
Affections
Listening
Hearing
Seeing
Believing
No lies
None deceiving
Smiles
Help
Souls
For one self
Kisses
Locking fingers
Two bees
Intimate stingers
Dinner
Massage
Candles on window seal
Wind to hit ourn backs
Rain to paint the peel
Closely
Divine
No minutes
No time
Free souls
One mind
No deaf
None blind
Rub her neck
Caress her shoulder's
Tender her feet
By oil and corner
To peck her collar
To stroke her hair
To pull it gentle
In her dispair
In all repair
In bad and the good
To be each others karma
None misunderstood
To show eachother proudly
To the humans and beasts
To make vigils of ourn love
Yet still alive in the keep
To dance ourn own jig
And smile to the sun
Wherein demons are all trampled
By ourn loving smoking gun
To make love passionately
Wild to
To pull me down
To make primal sound
As fire ignites a stew
A pounding to the wall
Behind grabbing hips
As secrecy is none
Ourn home is fun play bliss
The ocean to be ourn doormat
The clouds to be ourn steps
I waiteth on mine queen
Or
Tis
Ill have nothing left!!!

¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
     As I walked the cobbled road,
a fallen leaf had called to me
“There, they sit atop the elm
and sing in wing'ed harmony!”

     As I looked beyond the limbs,
t'was as the amber leaf had said!
Crows—a trio, black and jade—
sat sewing thoughts into my head.

     Doting all, their call, acute.
Feared, as they began to chime
and paint the scene in cackled rhyme—
a stunning scene of ag'ed time!

     “As the Earth sits up on high,
          Await the end; the end is nigh!
          And shaken from its pedestal,
          a common custom—gone awry!

     “And as the scrib'ed granites tell,
          the darkened lord shall cast his spell,
          and all of praxis slashed to
          barren ash and taken to his Hell.”

     Their words, a curse to roam the world—
a call, aloud—a siren's scream—
their call—the Cawling of the Wind;
this flawless song's an endless dream.

          They sing an endless, painted dream.
          They dream of endless misery.

     As I walked, my mind raced on
and paced about this patchwork key,
both singing of that cursed song
and laden with reality.

     And then this bent my hashing mind:
this pasture’s blinding paths abroad!
So ****** by its ****** disguise,
what once was fair is now but fraud.

     The thought of sin had bound my feet—
a burning chill that once was good.
His hell was just beyond my reach.
My body fell; yet, there I stood.

     And through the void, his spirit falls.
Gone, entranced, as he recalls
a house of cards with meager walls.
Atop the crown, his spirit calls:

“Hell is just beyond the green;
     past the lies and life you lead.
     As you age, the world will die.
     Your questions, answered;
          so, says I.”

     Around me, then, were those a’brood;
their dreamless nightmare once bestowed.
Our numbers fall; his rise in lieu.
Alas! Submit! We chose that road!

     This pasture waned an age ago—
a mountain, this buffet of lies.
For in his realm, the truth will show
that deaf ears harken not our cries.

     To a deity of piqued display,
upon a steed of dark dismay,
a fleeting wish, we're told to pay.
He'll raise his staff and he will say:

“Hell is just beyond the green;
     past the lies and life you lead.
     As you age, the world will die.
     Your questions, answered;
          so, says I.”

          Your eyes say no, but his say yes.
          A curse is thrown, and so we stress:

Our Hell is just beyond the green;
     past the lies and life we lead.
     As we age, the world will die.
     Our questions, answered;
     so, we cry . . .

                        *. . . and so, we cry . . .

Then in my book, what you forever,
They way its you, good luck its never.
Then in my books, what you the need,
Its you forever, go to the sleep.

Then in my book, what you forever,
Then its you soul, then in my book.
What you a from, that is a Brooklyn,
Then in so much, that way begin.

Then to you break, what you the need,
So much to born, go understand.
They way to from, that is to craw,
Say to my much, what you problem.

That way begin, fine to my much,
That way to scrib, you to go touch.
Wan to my script, you go to touch,
That way so good, in the my much.

Its you okay? Very so good?
Want so to script, wall so to you.
That is my bruck, go so to you,
Freesia its you, go so my much.

Then in my book, its you okay,
So Indastan, what my to bray.
So to you need, so much again,
They way to you, needed for cray.

Six months ago, then to my screen, it is so good, my matherland, wall to my much and so again, wall to my break, follow to me. That way again, to my a book, what a you from, then in my book. What a you know, then in a book, that way in you, then to my much. Very its go, you can the speak, that way a know, to you so brick. That way ago, to my its skin, they way a know, child wan a go. Six months sixteen, that wan to skin, so a you good, wall to much born. So its begin, they way a need, six months ago, later a screen. Wan to much born, then to my screen, that wall a book, go matherland. Six months ago, later you know, wall to again, that way the need. Then wall ago, sixteen a bricks, wall President, so much to need. Then you a soul, ******* to swall, that fatherland, in my in book. Rooms a o door, ******* wall craw, I'm so good, **** federat. You and then boy, but you the need, six months again, that way a scrib. Wall understand, they my in book, wall go so much, then you be book. Then in a book, wall understand, then in a book, wall a so much.