When beats the heart,
Purpose knocks a dart,
All glasses shimmer. Ash.
Shards till flame so harsh,
Breed my giving kindle,
All we ask not cared idle,
Gasped for air not my sea,
O Lord, care for what thy see,
O Lord, care for what they read,
All creation but limited deed,
Whence noon is caught astound,
Whose chorous brought resound,
Each blew hundred sombres cool,
Where silence took by music's wool,
Loomed its fur by hand craft's benign,
Whence known were hearts resign,
Lendayem too cried till light's blind,
And all who knew killed dark's behind.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related