Blow the torch n' let me be. A troubled soul with crumpled wings and broken rings. Stolen flings. Broke n free and hard to leave when Loving deep then letting be. Betting what her words might mean to set me free. Fret me please. Pleading god will let me see the somber queen. Quaintly keen. Leaning towards the left of me with

Empty glee

Honey bee

Funny dummies mumble free but not quite me. Might just be

An empty nest with blood n gore

Turth mispoke, her ciries ignored

Forgotten lore, sent to war

Tortured, raped, and met her fate 10 times before

Pillaged more!

Pulled up Snatched her from her home

For nights alone

Cried some more

Yield the sword and feel the gord

Of pumpkins washing up ashore, so vile and sore violence scored, limes and lemons sting the poor and kill the bore in singapore. Sing some more, sink the the score, Simoans skate the sea and let it be so that their queen could flap her chicken wings and peer into the deepness of the coral reefs and oral beefs, a moral piece, pondering philosophies of dieties, societies, the conquering of properties and inner peace, fuck socrates, depression and anxieties, cats which speak in siamese, soliloquies, guerilla beasts, timeless words that seep into the darkness of the open sea and inner me

Yeah

So Save yourself for things that hurt. Weary kisses whittle warts to whither quarts of turning blood. Slowly Seeping, fallen doves to fiercely love

That primal intuition with the mission of a million preposterous positions in the pillows of a mistress. Centered By the aura of a willows intermission, though a widow's intuition only guides you if you listen. (Swears to) Find you if you glisten. Conflicting thoughts, restricting knots, spewing cues to tell me not to get too close, Boast to roast, toast the thoughts the hurt me most. In endless search of coast to coast, Rather you not waste my Time or fill my glass with sparkling wine, just leave my mind. It's nice in here. Fluffy clouds of smoke and Tears, enchanting fears

Cuz I am me and I may be a

Troubled soul with crumpled wings and

Broken rings n Stolen flings I'm

Broke n free and hard to leave when

Loving deep then letting be. Betting what those words might mean to set me free. Fret me please. Pleading god Will let me see the

Somber queen. Quaintly keen AND

Leaning towards the left of me with empty glee

U Honey bee

Funny dummies mumble free but not quite me

Might just be

Colored by the butter of a mutter muttered mutt, missionary missiles mangled miserable muck. Maybe miltons Missing my impermeable strut, strung by misses, missing hisses, kissing verticile erupt