the prisoners have laid waste to the pulpit, you're in for it now!!!
As said upon his own love’s construction,
And coded lines of his times destruction,
“Amidst these valleys and mountains lying here,
What beauty I’ve made, perfection so near.
Beautiful autumn forests burnt auburn red,
Holding his wonder in a strong oak bed,
Such a powerful force ran canyons deep
And rivers born of lakes, do oceans meet.
The small white fish swam up the deep river,
The water of the bank shook, a sudden quiver,
Attacking the small pebble in search of food,
But instead they found only a larger brood.
“What beauty we’ve created” a white beard said,
Thoughts of the future crept into both their heads,
“What is to become of us when we die?”
“Little one, we become the river which they vie”
Thanks for the call bud...
I hope it was as sexually fufilling as you thought it was going to be...
And coded lines of his times destruction,
“Amidst these valleys and mountains lying here,
What beauty I’ve made, perfection so near.
Beautiful autumn forests burnt auburn red,
Holding his wonder in a strong oak bed,
Such a powerful force ran canyons deep
And rivers born of lakes, do oceans meet.
The small white fish swam up the deep river,
The water of the bank shook, a sudden quiver,
Attacking the small pebble in search of food,
But instead they found only a larger brood.
“What beauty we’ve created” a white beard said,
Thoughts of the future crept into both their heads,
“What is to become of us when we die?”
“Little one, we become the river which they vie”
Thanks for the call bud...
I hope it was as sexually fufilling as you thought it was going to be...