What it is not to know An unfinished song How it is to live and not grow In the wall flowers throng When you’re not given into meaning When there is non And yet you lit up the world
On nap of monarch’s wing have I not flown? Done crossed times mortal ravages Into that livery my king holds his throne Save all; but these wolfs and savages.
Love; what flower do you most aspire? Love; what flower should I most admire? Red peony’s with “lustful conduit desire Purple” crocuses cupped with fire.
Fingers flesh out desire Tease then set her soul on-fire. He then traces of an eternal flame Without anymore/ claimants Without anymore/ resistance She does call out his name?
