Such
as sweet surrender to ripple a pond but never for ownership.
But
a grueling soul while pure indifference where another suffers; to imagine by
quest, something made easy, where another has put in for reconstruction. Our human
foibles our frailty or science where one feels comfortable; to swap maps to use
physically where another is aware. This public island this mystic sunrise at
something excruciating. But honey for life or something borrowed for another
while one feels ecstatic; to realize this curse where one would perish but not draw
water for another. Such static personalities such static behavior while sincerely
not caring; we look for footage, if not we laugh, while one was caught gripping
instruments.
To
have loved it becomes paramount if but to muse gayly.
Such
ripples invading this theater of instincts while troubled by awareness; such
short jaunts such active chemistry where one is excited;
or riven asunder to
witness love dying trying hard but not significance—this portal so ancient such
music the first in time while aches are pure conniption. Our languishing moons
our languid stars or our futile clouds; such to die in me such to relive in
another while one discards a fancy; as falling into arms as disgusted with life
while the incumbent implements reconstruction.
By
inflated cards this roll at dice those crap-table faces—to live so high to
descend so low while a woman held one in grand-estates; such stifling voices to
hear his story while reluctant to accept his conviction; this half-brow as always
debating where critical thought frustrates at times; to pour out heart to receive
a closed dam while agonizing such gut-wrenching insanity; while a father
listens he denies experience he attempts to separate fact from survival; those
cymbal skills those percussions cranking while asking but timidly. So, it
happens with vengeance to sudden upon clarity where too much was buried to
sustain. By sheer eruption by sheer gravity to lose faith in a dearest soul.
We
ponder damages we deconstruct filthiness while we feel destroyed in parts.
Such
fragile susceptible souls—where words delight—while we need to believe
something that has never proven truth; our cryptic conversation, our internal
reasoning, while it has never worked before but this round is unique; or sheer
disgusts, with one asking questions, where children are most for ransom; such a
dreary topic such radical truths while many are unbelievably alright; to have
upbringing, to seat self firmly, or better, to have a healthy understanding.
