Whence didst craft stopped the Winds of War,
and bring forth peace, forevermore.
Exact it is a slumber hence,
awaken sorts some recompense,
weary minds do not ask for more.
Sub base, Washington, in Bangor,
breaths a sigh scares I, what they store.
A misty boy loss -- skilless, thence.
... whence didst craft stopped?
Cajole lilacs replace the lore
and roses are just an eyesore.
Uke skilled guitar sing praise dispense,
days of guns and roses silence.
Claims I, etching muse sings a score
... whence didst craft stopped?
Mythica wishes me to curse her
might she tell the tale of our
troubles to find make script for the
fools of Olympus. She then shall
become pregant that the Gods of mortals
shall see her troublings and have sympothy
on her. Aphodiety might smile
and whisper to him: unmounted she
shall have favor. Speak ill of me and
they shall gather to make my
wways unpleaseant and
altered.
Amist the screples of words
might she untangle the
Sorra and read. To stand
foolish and unwanted!
Oh yeah world of men
she her in troublin
site her wicked ways
speak of her as such
oh ye men of men of wisdom
might her sufferage
sought the slender
stand before the nights
barest known of gender
"Peel my grapes and Feed Me
Might you than be his
until then Might she love me
than she shall be his
peel my grapes and feed me
a simple skilless chore
Might I speak of you caring
how you love and chore"
From the Book Fetch the Citole' By a Dry Places
Some errors you "should not” regret;
some things should change for ever, yet
it's not like hearts to soon forget
what once they knew so fondly—
but sometimes you need not restart
despite the season of the heart,
for only reason can impart
the nature of a person.
The heart moves quickly to assess,
and far too quickly to address
by what it truly is impressed,
and lo, it's skilless effort
ends in error; shameful change
that needn't be, with needless blame
perverts each person's blameless name
for nothing.