The day called out the night.
Right as the dawn told Dusk,
Why even meet me at midday,
When you can’t see me by twilight tonight.
And then the heavens colluded with Aldebaran.
For Hell was not on Sirius 7,
As I count the sands of Asia
and the stars of Antarctica.
We will land on a part of,
yet not on a partial sec
Of that parsec.💬
There are certain values do keep,
This crept in as a new Monday’s revelation
while I took in a 3 hour sketching perforation,
Do bring in the swollen inflammation.
Y is the love of the letter, yet Z doesn’t given
any of this insane quatrain of lines
will not even pertain on a single note.
Aah the dawn beckons.
While I wait for a loving embrace of rain.
When can u speak a truth,
When its full of topical and cosmetically applied over the bed of miscontrued lies over lies.
Yet a simple speak of the white but never too black of a color that do shades a bed when all was done never said.
An image of an illusion that cannot be seen by the hand, does my eye covet of all lies never any of the fact of life that leeches and never dries
Rohan me a gap,
where all mine were Moira’s.
Why Mordor all that which has no Shire,
only which a precious one ring,
Why do I always Lewis that Tolkein,
If it weren’t for your essay on Fangorn,
I’d be running a long like rabbit out of Mirkwood
into that night,
where Alice would at least drink a cup of alcohol tea,
and loving one to two hoopla of my Lewis into all these.
The ink ran
A pen moved
Why did the stylus broke apart
when the user can not seen to seen,
Opened and broken and not stolen,
yet its contents have nothing but its own tears
from just this year.