Hear the song of clever lens as that stones henge travels the belling lo,
on the brain in that night,
a breath of gaining grown,
dark faces with the stare of fear in their lair,
dungeons of the minutes fair.
On that broth off a hand shake state,
in this breast of a World the turn key of a held less the phoned,
in the deeds,
on the ever failing snows,
glass bulbs,
cremations going to the sees of ashen rose.
Willingly I say to that term In all low gee,
granite is the Sculpture of tells,
grace in the fancy trace,
an etch to each every dying race!!
Sadly the news barrels price to prince the Topper of a bottle lane,
corking sauce edge while Cliff notes the drops on a thrown,
daily jackets tossing those poured to a clip on the media florists,
flours that have buttered the toe to blanket reams of banking shows.
For the persons of in duh Vid chew oles I counter a spake,
truth from love and say that this is the raft of a send to brim,
fire Flies that have left embers to snowflakes literary flutter,
on the cold Winter plains look to vary the branch of delights,
ore that is the ground with the Feat of treasure rare,
Creeks represent that simple stream,
rivers on a roar to flooding sands move,
to the shores at the Oceans tell a stone,
be of the Rock and role,
stand with Vibrants,
true the Shining with bright type to War this down word spiral of steeps.
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