About the boasts we tame a few,
Boasting corrupts us like devastation.
Visible pages with inscriptions describe
The endings and derivations that matter.
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Ghosts supply hatred to the body,
Just when they crawl in and out.
Having a heaven takes guts,
Death is the precursor, death is an objective,
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A scourge causes death to open enemies,
How hard are those who whip and punish severely?
A threat cascades into the death of a man of blasphemies,
His throat hurts from exertions and everything nearly.
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Good boys learn in the other way,
Pulling the eyes of strangers that say.
Fortune still lives among us in this way,
Living well, forgiving others is too gay.
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The sword clashes in mighty strokes with the stone,
The stone splits from the massive tone of the alone.
These slumbers write a mischief and outburst,
To be booked and looked at, to be accursed.
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Death creates anger to some who think it,
It married your flesh to your eternal spirit.
Life carries my burden as long as I comb
The hair of breath and breadth, under the dome.
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An obstacle results from a living of going berserk,
This is clockwork, occupation, business of brickwork.
The barriers we cross are like that for the opening,
Offering are loans and pluck, the distance of beckoning.
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Love must spare in a way,
Its inner sides do sway.
Love is innocent when we engage,
Importance of its meaning is a stage.
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A ball rolls in dozens of ways,
Like dice or spells of magic-days.
The game we play is to entertain,
You must roll dice and it is hard to attain.
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