An arrow across The abyss struck my heart and I caught on fire.
Never were true words Spoken. What is manifest Is illusion. The Real poem is so Indescribably perfect, Just imagine it.
Must I pretend theProstitute for you to doMe honor? Your first Born, vile villain,Fell victim to his vices.Second, Chester cheat, Slid his sword from mySex,
Waves covered his dark Hair, and down he sank, in the Depths he found his home.
Firm foundation onCornerstone, rock, earth cushioned,Sacral foundation My left foot is the pastStanding on the shoulders ofMy legacy, and The men I have been.I wash
Unflappable, calm, Immensely practical, smooth, Crossed, rampaging bull.