The crisp of an old necropsy being the veil of gleeful ground elevation
Pierre of lacquer flicking hisses
The internal bleed of the blood is the gleam of clay and fools
Broken yet horrified arcane unfold within the death of night
Sea of shore
Sand of drills
Cohesive of one wringing of soft pleasure skills
With the actual bumble effect on humanity
Pleasing right and withdrawal of one case
Was it the act of constraint or the fascinating sight of heat
Chances for both were none or least expected tangible intimacy
Chewing the fundamental truth of the old blissful saying
The grip of one was the least amount of drinkable wine should be in
How about in the fiction of alliance
Can the sipping of liquor be devastated by impressions
I suppose it was the gap in the air
Swift the blow
Yet not hard adequate
The tribulation of truth yet pixels of glaciers
Being lost on rumbling thoughts were the shift of one agony being whim of tales
Remote to tell yet hard to understand
The proponent of one justice was not how people of pure ingornic should be claim
Caves of waves on wondering site
Do u think u could sneak in with the fire of bombshells and weapons
Thunderous it might sound this isn't a validity yet to be analyzed but it was floral out of the drawback
They say to keep the voice the hush
Lock way the sovereignty crown
And shed some tears
Deterioration on the flipping side
The battle is consensus.
Freedom is slavery.
Ignorance is strength
It destroys the very base of humanity
countries go to war
They fight over imperceptible borders and materialistic values
they fight over things that should not matter, over an Earth that they don't love as their own.
They fight the rich man's war, to appease his hunger for power and money, and they destroy generations and generations of values and culture.
They sow the seeds of mistrust and insecurity
mockery of the term human rights
Basic needs of faculty and faith were the least the charmer should prove but the roaring side from one end to another was just acting of violence being gripped on its perks of clear abandoned goons holding on to fluid of flaw and ocean of dust
Seeking help was one slip of act that needs replacing with the cough of a sigh
Youths of youngsters were the new supervisor on the night of death
Yet all is been seen is a pool of blood rather than the sweat of wilderness
Isn't there any need for the kindness that humanity lacks or it just exists flicks in my fight on the slump of fingers being piled under the mud