a dory caught off guard in the billow of a wild frontier,
the south paw always an adverse of nature,
tranquil can be the fire,
but the the sparrow will mature,
a dormant trammel becomes earsplitting when broken,
now freedom promised as a perpetual token,
in the splendor of the petal the truth does not appear,
cripple the word and clarity becomes obscure,
deception weaved from inner fear,
not even gone and the cinerarium is in the picture,
oh! look at the view, raw are their souls preaching such an unholy scripture
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