Roses Are Read Vie Lets Are Blew For est And Flours Sugar And Crews Gnótt Sund^Trie

Sleep well my deep blue sky,

fill of the sun lights dry sleeve to lift the place a violets on my tend,

in that galaxy I strong singing hear,

I see that the most is the friend of my spacial breast to touch the pharaohs prose,

upon this divide of such parting the drift is Human snores on lids crowning deeply said,

speaking to my ancient home I gallant you by incredible willing to become the nears.

Oh how I long for the comforting embrace,

the ever sewn to that creative begin as the suns breath warmed my being with close,

as the explosive sounds of the lowest of groans I travel this evening to greet the scene,

in ankle rest I will bring the lathe to shingle a cobblers pen just so I may know the heel,

a nail for the shale to frost the glacier my melt.

As I song to the dust of a particle I will remember the rocks of the rolling to touch the sands,

in my hands remember the piles of bones that crumbled like the elephants throws,

on that slow walk to the ivory pales showing the trek of letters with a memory lens in softly chills,

how did humanity trail so far from the scale of feather to sink the drowning louds while demise was their chair.

Choir of the stars in miles to that comet that stretches to reach a smashing hugs delight,

grow to that length so I may enjoy the natural things becoming explosive in small growing fells,

as the ditches are dug for the mortals posed May my shoulders carriage the trend with kindness,

placing upon the head of each a mile for the inch that populous refused to spell.

Sail true to North breeze of Wind on the sees,

my voice is low and steady with that bending on the penned,

thatch to Ceiling rice has soaked the chorus with braces that tight a gears stripped,

mechanics on the mortal phone.

Dialing wrote to frame the blink without a guide to speak the falling limp,

timbering at the shackles of hobbled,

artistic paintings that murals have cold,

the paints of eyes have dripping panes,

in that it is the shape of note to preview those that will be a multiplication of the green clover combs,

the sway of lean falling stare,

it is the swipe of human beings on a screen replacing tolds,

how frozen Tundras must chase the blowing snows to say that it is the flakes that covered grows.