How guidance, flairs, it beats, the fallen track, it looms, it traces, it fumes, it dims, it peaks, it lashes, it pulses, it is a sweet liquour that returns my freedom sane. The tilt my eye, the suffering same, I know, the guidance flicker stem, the sweet nectar, is it suffering — still — my sweetheart clear?
How guidance, it flows divine, and dims to a fashioned swallows flash so hurt, to fallen gasp, the hurts gasps ending might sows, and the blue whisper, the fume, the wilthered safety, in the flashing fume, lit pairing, the loft to sow more, the sweet nectar my hands reaped sands timeless lit neat, yet I, what is the beat?
Can you shelter, the timeless wine, the guidance flame, the wicker, flickers timeless beat, the hurt grain brought to ecstasy, in anger crop slow, and flash, the beat fallen to an upper mantle, the liquour in ecstasy stripping the flashing loom to a priceless waste, the eyes upward trend, the gasps hid obey, and clouds of mercy, then a gasp, again hid clay… and no item but of time, my hood shines a childish lit humour delay?
or the stability alone — how capture — a loom, one pluck
Oh John, how steal thee, a capture theft, the sip welter tame, how shelter knees telt wells, to the offbeat light, the capture stare?
Can you not see my veil too? To capture reaped sorrow, hid heart young, the pathways, the hood, the young girl won, her hands savoured greet, the flavours, knitted the looms finger hid deep, one finger deep, flying soft, a change of path, her gasp, the meaning drift, and altered web, will I reset my beloved the seed, in eternity kite?
Or return all seeds, my beloved, in obedience sum, all suffering the drum fold even, the tolerance sane, yet the rising sun, I join my own God sane, flights obey, the sword ringing on the ground, in tears, light tend, the sword ringing, in a hood my night to fend, the heart pulse greet, my sworn enemy founded leap tend, how crop thee, my beloved, how pathways forgotten rumour hid, yet lit to the pulse, a midnight clay.
An inspiration, lit, a tiding grip, the working slow as tides, to each seed worked as night, the ear flown tender suffering shame, and the fold, the all, reaped the topple table turn, and the flight remember, my angel sworn fend, in a tone my shelter hone, his beat, my safety forgetting yet remembered brace to shun.
How nightless whispers to ease, my flight, yet not knowing anything, where is the sun? Permission obey? Allowance, may I? Is it a drip, to fold, the hands, another fold, is it I, the hidden shy, the anchor a loom, angel hid?
Do you think my pathways alone do one angel hid loft, the hidden lips, your pathways fold, alien silence fold, that I could not careless, to combined folds, but I alone, never greeting hands to hone physical lends tailored greet, the root returned to the fold, and another mission, the flicker, my angels, one lick, and fold again, do you, shall you?
Oh wastes do lay, my timeless sips, your eternity, do capture another channel your wastes silence crept, I am not in obedience obey, but just a timeless capture, in a sheltered breeze, one path strike woe, to shelter even low?
I do tend morsels or morsel I, to claim paths fold loft in wars so cold, that one bite, do you have other slights, the fold so ringing true?
Binding flows, how glove, how two hands mine, you expect a fold, even paths met, my work all fold crop exchanged to lit compass, the pocket, four angels reaped prison my chest to glow? The fallen angels to a priest hid fame, to the burned out flame, the stone heart, the wiltering weave, the chain so low, that cropped even, my cheap compass, blessed to find, a divine sort, four pedestals flirt, and four others how do I flirt, the binding crown to a breach with safety so hood flame?
Oh please, do anchor something other than the mission Christchurch, how I do love, a stally monk, to swing a stolen flame in loft arreas on a broken stone heart, to delays of appatures theft, on liquours of divine theft, to wiltered woes, and crows, timed decadence to the waiting patience, then pause.
My flow seen crop laugh, a chime my pocket, how hood four angels, arch four binding seals, to concealment fold shaft lapt? Oh do crop your necklace, my deared John, the crop diamond toe, your winged pedestal the chains your loft balancing cane to the eye, do not sow the decadence beat, I have the chains in loft, the anchor pedestal four angels sniped from a ring tilted third, and the mission foreign to the Christchurch, how loft.
Find Samael then, the beaten track, how the reapers eye soil, Four pedestals glow, the tyrants flowing cane, and then upbind the reaper sow, the safety, the flowing aura, to flame the beaten track, and a nun, in ecstasy, in an abandoned outlet, her chains hidden loft, to my mission cop stolen care, the chains hid binding ridge, I steal in the ridging flair.
Might sight, the careless flight, how no toothless yonders do crop, all expenses to a 2.99 compass.
Lick your own wounds, you filthy hounds, and hound your creepy silence missions, to stings so low, that your echoes paradise are nothing but lonelines drills to a girl with no guidance but their voices with tills and bills, cheaped slights, with tights, echoing meaningless nights, where my hands flowing freely, I offer all, all my skills flown tide long, missions staive, and no beat to the fallen track, where hands in mercy drift, I could offer the snot lowly judgement sane, and I, fallen walks in compassion and love, to the divine aperture grain. Go tally your own wages, to your binding woes, and slither back to fleaten passages, in liquours pretense, to no lonely appature as I attend in loft, the caring ridge, I have flown in tending missions sane, for any time, any where, within perimeter. How loft, the cow flies, the binding feel upwards reap, the safety breach the decadaces grave, my compass hid nit, how an aura hit and miss, does the compass blinding form a breach lit mistake, yet humour how filtered eyes flow, and old chisseled darkened loom, in experiments beat.
Hands alone, experiments, do get an aura, with a glazy beaten like the old ways beat. Five hounds archangels to a beaten direction track, and forgiveness truth, do flacken, and stair you back. How I Stand, in forgiveness, give, one angel, and safety, binding mirror reflecting foe, and forgiveness, what angel research do you bind, to the truth, my decadance passage I greet, in the midnight came upheld loft, but the tongue flowing mercy cane, to the demon loft children in blight and flight, one eager morsel, to chew, do savour the drip.
Morsel the final, sip, or tend crayons lend, do crop more angels, yet back tear, get the aura right, your beings of liquour my fume so fight, and hazy worn eyes liquour eyes maze, how the eye looming centre, the fright, tending save, freedom flight ,visions apertures torture experiments night. Do loom a feast, your technique the feast your patheways eager reset in tidings eager reset fun.
Aura fun, get a breeze, not a life, with a fume, and a lightning mow, to tilt eyes tease.