2,2

The sun is shadowing in the mountains, He slept through rain times, and ascending; Down the road a men and a machine, - Pleed the relative speed and encrese; The treater like the creater good, - Well enough to let him own the morning, - Holding the cosmos against any beast restrainge the hammer noise hastuaries the cleen sounds; And Nothing goes last and firmer than that, the thick white paper burned with fire ties who tries. Sky is the blue zone till now, and forever black crown's nest in the hottest of the Summers.