Content is purely objective, but a subjective diary. No offense, non taken.

March 04, 2011


Like with random love of awkwardness.
I write to you o dire love,
Of rough power and ponderings
I offer you my tove

Of none of one I dive
of a son of tyre pride,

Come join me dy mercy,
on a vengeful death,
Full vigour and valour,
for nothing yet.

Though will not keep secrets
or off that of tyrant love.
Of vengence in beseach
Or vocabularical scratch.

Of my perfect lesson,
Of your valourious pride,
Of what I call is the compass.
Of what is called Time.

Come thy mercy,
Of the holy death.
Of beseached power.
I swear I bet.

No comments: