green lies to my ambiance to high infedility,
never in the eyes of cheat will my heart be so oblivious,
whispers of indecent childs still rest upon my cheek,
hell bent backwards for my relic rinses,
my insides tenses,
but outsides trapped in remembrance of chapters not lost,
my mind is the payment at no cost,
my remains trust a will,
but maybe my angst is not to kill,
not to rely on revenge and guiltness,
but lie on wet grass of bliss,
fade phanthoms
as i taste the fruit of eve
while my sorrow plays the piano with adam
with porcelain keys,
windowless paines are the eyes i have,
but sorrow is the only thing it graphs,
caesar seasoned rain drops keep my hands glued,
i cant escape this weather
for my bitter has rised,
defies the cries
of empty mouths and full eyes,
silenced by puppies and dragons,
i see myself as one thing
as the fruit.....
sees me....
as...
another