Mish-Mash Memories
What if smiling moon
Is brighter than the sun?
And the flakes of tumoil tend
To vile when fully regatherd
While i tame time my fab
I extricate by the vast drab
Of quality i fade for emptyness
The knobs of metaphor was
Red-hot and fickle fame flies
Off the vicinity of restless
Scimiter..ALAS! vile scimiter
Chill. Hot. Hate and lover
They all colide and positive
Wands lost the clasp of
Magical influence
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