Good Mourning Whirled

Good Mourning Whirled

The son's raise peak threw
a dirty window pain,
casting an awed shadow
across my sleepy ayes.
Eye grown and ryes too stair.
A spinning whether vein meats
a gnu perfectly hewed sunrise;
I'm odd buy the pieceful seen.

"Good mourning whirled," Eye smile.
Eye brayed my long blew hare
and chews the close aisle ware
today and threw all thyme.
Eye here a wrap on the door
and pier out the window too sea
a bawled man liening on the jam
eating a chocolate, he smiles and waives.

"High, my name is Gym," he greets
as eye open the well warn door.
"Nun for me, thank ewe," eye say.
"Know, know" he smiles, "Aisle just bee taking the senses"
"Oh well, ewe can count me out,
aisle bee leaving soon," eye explain,
"this whirled's heir is much to crewed too breathe,
witch is wye eye ware this mask, sea?"

Eye have know idea wye Gym past out!
Eye shrug and step aweigh into thyme
leaving my whirledly face too lye in the son,
stairing blankly back at Gym.