I was never less than what I was meant, but what I am is just because I happen to have at ‘em when I’m havin’ spasms like a madman from atom I act and I fathom the fact as I had ‘em laughed at madly in a passing enough to flush the flesh with the rest of our lusts to fret and regret when I put to bless what’s meant to put shame amidst the sensory, stayed for a tempory but only came for what’s exemplary.
Maintained on this every breath, method came severed when endeavored for feminine flesh, ever remnant but forever seekin’ heaven or the rest is false sentiment; shiny word sentence went through the lenses like effervescence till my true presence tenses and tends to shine through the vestiges. What you’ve heard reveals the fleshes’ fetishes as the rest lay down defenses for the last spent expenses cuz the remains have no extent for the senses. Same to the game and the bent ways of what the vessel confesses as whence came from the pencil to paper, written word plain and in labor pain, inspired blood sharp from a rapier, mayn…
Can anyone hang? Does anyone follow my caper? Or is it a crusade I've made for makin' and takin' favor when it forms to only savor the warmth though it remains to come forth, dwindle, perish and aim to remorse in the course of these verses, run torched, which forced me to hearses, 9 gates to my body's orifices forfeits to what lurks, what's in it that hurts, burns and flares up like choruses? Ornaments torn within this bitch more than his wits to witness the curses and quickness to the curtains dropped and lifted again...
What the fuck makes us gifted again?
Maintained on this every breath, method came severed when endeavored for feminine flesh, ever remnant but forever seekin’ heaven or the rest is false sentiment; shiny word sentence went through the lenses like effervescence till my true presence tenses and tends to shine through the vestiges. What you’ve heard reveals the fleshes’ fetishes as the rest lay down defenses for the last spent expenses cuz the remains have no extent for the senses. Same to the game and the bent ways of what the vessel confesses as whence came from the pencil to paper, written word plain and in labor pain, inspired blood sharp from a rapier, mayn…
Can anyone hang? Does anyone follow my caper? Or is it a crusade I've made for makin' and takin' favor when it forms to only savor the warmth though it remains to come forth, dwindle, perish and aim to remorse in the course of these verses, run torched, which forced me to hearses, 9 gates to my body's orifices forfeits to what lurks, what's in it that hurts, burns and flares up like choruses? Ornaments torn within this bitch more than his wits to witness the curses and quickness to the curtains dropped and lifted again...
What the fuck makes us gifted again?
