10-07-2016, 08:17 AM
Paralytically Metaphoric About The Negativity of An Ever Favoured Face.
Tempestuous twining embarked, now I turn
To such wining, then whining; my soul will not learn,
And I scream for reform, but my heart wills me not,
Whilst my mind laughs and cries at its morals, forgot.
Alas not to sleep, act directed as told.
But to break, to mutate to this monstrous behold,
Which she retinally claws with both fear and contempt,
‘Fore appeasing my rants with her tears often spent
For I. She cannot really spend her hours
In ardent towers of lovers stained with blood,
Or flood my green with flowers of trust and love
Whence with such strength she’s made a stand, and stood.
Tempestuous twining embarked, now I turn
To such wining, then whining; my soul will not learn,
And I scream for reform, but my heart wills me not,
Whilst my mind laughs and cries at its morals, forgot.
Alas not to sleep, act directed as told.
But to break, to mutate to this monstrous behold,
Which she retinally claws with both fear and contempt,
‘Fore appeasing my rants with her tears often spent
For I. She cannot really spend her hours
In ardent towers of lovers stained with blood,
Or flood my green with flowers of trust and love
Whence with such strength she’s made a stand, and stood.