We see according to our senses,
The attributes of the sick collaborate
To define an illness of the whole heartache.
One soul instils the righteous men
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I see a primrose under this star,
I watch the flowering blushing plants
In such summer, reason is a silly affair.
I see the waterfalls when winter,
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Sickness is the sweetest woe,
Lovesick men are older than the snow;
For it shrinks, exploding the scene,
Welling in eyes, overcome by gleam.
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Break the skull of brothers and you die
Within yourself, driving the forces of evil
With souls of light, beleaguering the thieves
Of the dead, the yards of great graves.
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Will you believe in my sins if you heard them right now?
Sins are fourfold, sins destroy the soul as it wins, if you heard them right now.
Will damage be given to the ear when you pray?
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My shores are dead, for my lands are new and read,
By the dying gangs of this plain that expands, new and read.
Fires fail and spread due to cold hearers and cold faces,
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Hands are woven into the silk of desire,
Fires are woven into the hells of abuse;
Each hell is each shoulder to drive a wedge,
Expanding the skulls with worse pain.
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I marry the same thoughts to the vine
My jaundice is more than your complex
Let bars of my starfish be my stated time
I marry the thoughts to the serial killer
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All they inform is the jest
These demonise the public
They watch over the corners of the globe
And instruct the majestic world
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Behold the men centred in oblivion,
Be their faces offering pain of soothing;
The choking of the damned is escaping,
A cold happening causes the faults.
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