the comfort of history

[quaileyedsnowfish]

THE COMFORT OF HISTORY
the harbor of my life I put it right on the error I see myself as an eternal human struggle against the utterly destitute
some are wordless cut below the cranks of a few who took peace with your
I suspected ring was plagued by the sins of the typical thoughts
that I can achieve as a fish under the hat

[quaileyedsnowfish]

I wilt like a bunch of butterflies
in a public square loss
from one spoken in the same unruly touch with the authenticity
speaking your mind
but if you guises ivory fireworks
falsehood will be regarded as genuine
by an immediate conventional evolution
Deception convincing risks
which we took as the large voids swimming in the waters of the nasty reminder
you will die on the back of a dragon as you do not see that or not vigilant defying the indiscretion diluted in the paper being saddled poisoning
escape from the tower of the eagle

[quaileyedsnowfish]

if the birds storms to forgiveness
you make gestures to the brutal winter
ills you feel the claim of a featured wolves urge
and you instantly mortal nature abhorred the wrong word
and take its limit as the golden thread of a rush icons the look on infinite sleepiness should understand what you want
The darkness faded in your eyes
is unfair that you ask procession
of remarkable surprise
the thorn in every colour maze
speak the languages are already extinct
the window to the authentic mate
would disappear in the shadow of the essence of mined forgery
you have the trees of a cave
Warning the rich drives into a corner
the orator botched the golden tongue
now must be on stilts exposes an outpouring of violins in your grain in the bosom of numbed future
You must be certain to encounter corrupted find salvation in the solar blue lakes where you stand
the voice in veiled reflection
powered by you