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I remember when I used to spar with illusions and find myself boisterous in the noise of poised confusion (in a nutshell: I'm just trying to find my way to satisfy the feeling I've been knocking since complying with my dying intuition for the masses.) as a last resort to fluid sorts (companions) of the tarnished marshaled heralds who brought their caught to be judgmental of myself and ask for rentals of the halos that they wore but were torn off during revolutions construed to brew in sequence of the fleeting image cast. My! How nice it could be to live in sin and not be driven back to hell. this is asking price for freedom on our level.
Like an eclipse upon the stragglers
Realizing everybody comes to dying terms with hiding worms, and acting like nothing ever happened:
Let them be
Walking undaunting parallels between the graveyards and the seas. And if we come to mention apprehensive pensive thoughts I allude first through the third worst victim on these clad and fostered
often slaughtered
canned and martyred
sanded, frosted shores.
Footprints to retrace and statements to retract, never asking passing looks and glancing back on facts. To breadcrumb covered harkened epiphanic harkened hoarders of the ideals we lead to cliffs crude edge and marched off starked (blindfolded).
Our thoughts are almost always misinterpreted.
Like an eclipse upon the stragglers
Realizing everybody comes to dying terms with hiding worms, and acting like nothing ever happened:
Let them be
Walking undaunting parallels between the graveyards and the seas. And if we come to mention apprehensive pensive thoughts I allude first through the third worst victim on these clad and fostered
often slaughtered
canned and martyred
sanded, frosted shores.
Footprints to retrace and statements to retract, never asking passing looks and glancing back on facts. To breadcrumb covered harkened epiphanic harkened hoarders of the ideals we lead to cliffs crude edge and marched off starked (blindfolded).
Our thoughts are almost always misinterpreted.