(TPAC) Alexander Coppedge Poems

Brothers before an earth creation origin forming it, start of homes of souls thought to sin, begin the tale proclaiming it others living under dark a to life.

Opinions of higher light water state a suggestion, say by a vanity delusion greatest sight, reflecting whole life it this blessing of the up folks it's alright.
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Sun up its flare saw drop, fall it sinking finals rest, scream sounding loudly bursts hidden in hollows call shouted, came dark proclaims its news to all.

Statement it a cry to life warns the voice it issues, creeping it a dreary fear fright it coming it is near, surviving a dark danger to try it effort of animals.
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Poetry, at desires, striking arrows within, declaring out a word, stand say, is to me, a voice heard, that land, a statement of free emotions, scribbled in line, written by wand and bow.

Love it to a calm, high wind breeze, activate this need be set intentions, aimed at a target, slowly pulling a red string, stretching, pull back, direction goes up that flow, low; release: its hum.
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The sun drops beams, caused by downed rays, touch sways that are aimed at the dark ground, destroy displays; set as their visuals; pathway.

A light, a dawn's hark, is to us, a morning, puts on its bark, attacks cave's night, peels dark off the wall, melts hot away; dew in a park.
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You, indeed, are a needed friend, submit good wisdom to me in the Lord's trust, promote love inside an evil heart; wanted companion, tell me to make visions about the night's shadows, seeking a beam as my guiding light.

A king appointed and placed on a throne to help claim souls, allowing his death, aids others to vanquish evils, save their loved ones: nail one innocent, them to a cross, folks.
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Life treasure tasks hated such as failing to recall a feature, retain the funds the replacement to uplift cash, to have no job but pleasure safely in a bank.

My duty is to target it is minor, at draining steals this item cutting, reveals faults it stops to pits and boasts a max: ends fear to retire seals final facts.
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"Watch me", flow over it a flower, beyond blow fly in wind spec, high upper gust swirling, befriending a spider below: talks a fly.

"We-e", spin body black frame, turns its spinning, flaps of wings high in the air, rapidly beat at the same time; twins: joyfully game.
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My coming soon to me future: too very near, stop working, viewing the various pits of life, ending work face, dazzled, it's an ace, having no job, retirement; isn't great for me: in a race.

This reality fate has laid a trap, it's placed to bust any man, intending it to kill, cut it's timeless evil, taking a death thrust, rippling this dramatic fear; deeply it shears: in once able bones rust.
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Call me then, when Heaven's army nears upon the low chaos that's beneath, approaches; gates reopen, aiming to attack, get ready: assure pick tactics a total victory.

Awake me then, from a deep nap, I've taken it, releasing my inner Hulk that's inside, providing approved help for its finish: ending all those spoken lies.
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I need to be at the very start, living from that initial beginning; endure those precise moments projected, then convey actions about those exact things.

I want to relive those actions about an event that happened; know the factors recalling its tiniest details: pushing out any doubt about what did occur confirms the whole evidence.
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