Comments Inbox
| |
The Breaking
The breaking,
the shaking;apace
my king's fall is rise
my land is anon taken.
The antic,
the discholeric;as
albion her age;as
arras on her skin.
The abstract,
the seas;our compact
heartless disease;
let's decoct,
let's not calm
The beaver,
the savior's hand,
she will for aye crave
for her not a bedlam;
she is sane.
The cautel,
the hidden truth;
Cadent ties;fret
channels in her cheeks
frail less chuff.
The voidness,
the lifeless mess;cloy
there wines of death;
there ciphers;there empty,
shut their tomb.
The wall of wails;
the jews.
the rock that never fails
the doors.
The breaking
the making;apace
enough;her surfeit
her swain eternal
remnant of no transgress.
The maker,
her end;Yeshua,
truimph of her;
light in the cautel,
my messiah;so i break.
|
|
|