The Poet Without Tittle

fd To Be Lost Is To Become Alive In Love Yet To Give Only Brings Safistacated Pastion Of Lacadazicalness To The Informal

Dramatical Lies Of Earth. You Leave The Unknown Be And Leave The Quiet Aloud With All Noises Of Failure. She Slips At A Metso Fortay Of Lifelessness To Alls Ends! The White Powder Look On The Face Of The Widowded Young Lady Creeps Up On The Sole Of Most Of Me And Takes Over To The Point That I Let Out 4Tears Of Blood. 1st One Of Sorro/Pain, 2nd Of Relife That All Is Once Again Peacefull,3ed Of Anger,4th Of Silence.