A Chance, In The Deep. Poem by cristobal obregon silvertop

The outlines of the veils you, have obscured the beauty that lies therein, and i would but grab your inner innocence, and hold it to my chest.
I would treasure it that's all,
Then I would do anything i could to rise you up, and I'm not the sort to let fall, AM i the slave of destiny, I fear the brightness will go away. In which Direction do i fall, where best do i serve a flower, every petal, with sweetness, with light. not doubt but clarifications, i can see the murkiness will reveal the matter, of course, and your affection will come with the temper, that your muscles use to rise me up and then fall.

A joint of Roads people Panic in multitudes, in the wrong direction, cupid Delicately takes up his lyre, and smiles Happily.