Swift.

The posed here. Where’d they be. In such a manner the boyish dreams should end. Of what they all know. It’s tell and show. What’d become of me.

The lush categorical denial. Frame set.

Go find yourself a drink. Awe!

The appropriate. The inner sanctum. Where nobody laughs. Where honesty retains value and persistence amends. Alas!

I ventured late. To know. An insolent voice appals me.

The wake of sleep. My dreams torn from me.

Remember not of thus.

The times could not end.

And she went ahead. For as of which I could apprehend.

The honesty stays.

What I’d seen then aches. I could not seize to know. The pious recent. I closed the door.

And her tears fell down on earth.

What little do I know. Of this and that and where to go. A latter day calling.

The gentle voice of summer clothes. To a merry moment’s remnant.

See the day glows of what she left behind.

The apologetic, far too kind.

I found a stare.

They’re near of holding.

To which I met. Regret. I am loneliness’ pet. What known of these cascading nights. Assured city lights of no end.

The concluding insolent way in which I know.

Dreams to which the rain go.

Repent on shadows

The leisure time squared faith feet

dead words frown in mythic stairs

a shadow grown in an at wonder

what is this, where are we going?

I dread the resemblance is fair

Beauty rare

Like shoes

A violet pair like blues

Singing in the dark

I fear I begun to lie,

Not of thus

Kindles brought shallow polite

clothes

Where no man could go alone

The woods grown

inhibits pictures in a lost world

the proprietor cursed

and I listened

They do I knew

Where and what

while continuance pervades

the insolent fool

with mere talk

I dare see

What an ease of beasts

The eventual mad cease

Such a tease

A shed, a glimpse

the maiden

lives

again

Benefit of the doubt.

The voice solemn calling

A choir boy’s falling

The enmity of pain

No gain

Inside

The all in vain

A shove, a shadow train

And I don’t know where I’d go

The parlour thrill

Upon the restitute Gemini

Cushion talk

Sweet walk

Prior to grief’s chalk

Wherein lies this look out for innocence

turns the edge off me

Pardon the indicament

For a lean on

You

There’s a miracle in despair

The loosing cone

Alone

Like blind shots in the air

Listen now

In pursuit of luck's banned testimony

the infamy of lacking

What bewildered guile of shadows

prohibits wander

grieves mist

thorns twisted

A property of denial

soon heighty winds perform

a sacre ceure

to the pale shadows on her face

grows clear with sudden haste

a mimmick to a shared

convolent process

shame is duty lies ahead

the leniant tendencies

behind atrocious private restitute constraints

and anxiety's plays

the amplitude of her waste

pictures profane beauty

Sugar caned

Aloud Alas A leaflet for the sunken

glorious think grant

of joyous giants

In morale swigs and sways

the certain days

of counted remnant cheers

In ways

I owe her

One priority to a next

The obedient layman's suit

a looting of the innocent in knowledge

I referred to soon

in a riot moon

to the casket renowned

for dignant pilots, revereries

festively stowed

laughter to the mound

of mythic lair's

I claimed

A sooth of say

The limit's to a pay

A reek of sullen adoration

in the smile lest hidden

for while best ridden

of the ghost walk

on nothing a knew

the shivered blue

Don't let them get to you...