The silent tepid moon slow burning on me now.

I can not what it seems.

Perfect thing of nature.

A vast terrific pursuit of rain.

Clothes to the inferior.

No satin ladies.

In a dream state horrific.

The tendency of late.

A mad-hatters mayday.

The happiness I couldn't believe.

Kind of attributed into the next.

Nightmare's pendulum.

I woke in a freeze.

The wile tease.

Seasoning power.

In passions pollite the question arose.

No filthy trip dwangling for the enemy.

Pardon your habitual insanity.

The key dwellers roaming high.

A stroll on duty's toll.

No fiction bought freedom.

The morbid sensation of cause.

A probability to deny.

The secret of senses.

No evidence of any such thing as a looser.

The pity clothes of ravished entropies.

A vision of doors.

To the open minded thieves.

Never on my watch.

I seize to please.

Topics of rational care.

The envoyant steer.

Of minced hatred.

A flock around bait.

Insipid ventures blind.

Hold them tight.