| An age that is now Despondent and detested Scaning bare in covert Assembeling masts for newer crests In my hollow mind I fire boon and breasts Ponder sensibilty in waking eyes Watch over dreams of groggy wise Leat this place be heaven for I Ceasing trite, heaving delight I took shelter under this ice I could not kiss Yet i could see Your rigerous blasphamy Dancing along the bails of white Dusting off the journey's drench With my old ugly eyes Watching over the times and crimes Whispers flung artistic blends Marching off the mound of sins Doth not run or you shall stumble Its not worth it It must crummble For my weaker line i draw Your pious love The one that saw The scenes and dreams Now it runs To wilds unknown Or a path we put As spoken of Lord |