Would we, would we not,
"I cherish your pretty pink under-garment",
Is it chosen, by a little
By them, few.

Drones stalking, Queens waiting,
There are words, and more words,
Your love, a verse; But tell me my dear,
Caressing you is subtle or hard?

"I like your back", screaming my eyes,
Don't please don't, Shun this part.
Isn't it for your best? To like me.
I sing, not drunk songs, Sire.

My eyes in your life, Has
Been tears, take not less,
Not a little more, Don't litter love
Queen

Placid Little Smoke

Little tranced ladies, of Nicotine smoke,
My spraying women,
"What do you think, they hate me?"
She drew closer, closer within each heart of mine.
Caressing every fragment of this little soul.

"Can we take it to our bedroom tonight,
I sleep with a smoke".

I Am

Once, I had stood.
Even in the heavy torrent of the rain fire;
Against me were seated
The dire ends of humanity definition.
"Mortal" and the "Immortal"

"Dear Bard, We have but heard you wail in your own demise,
Pleading for my swift execution and deliverance.
You have bid me closer to your heart,
Closer than any man has felt the warmth of life from his
Love that was beloved.
Seek no further child,
I giveth what thy seek
The End"
Mortality consumed me, thus, with his eternal pouring eyes,
Each word which left with the hollow of the Mighty Galactic Wisdom.

It couldn't let my mind stray, Immortality, coughed.
Like the dust from the times of the Great to the history of the Shrewd blew.
"I offer thee, the Gift of Gods,
Where they would come for thy council,
But few day, the Valkyries will giveth their
transcendental beauty and their make,
To you, Mighty Philanderer of Maids.
To such glory, I giveth thee in Grace
To you the Valhalla".

Odin himself, it seemed hath struck the golden Hour of Gain,
Upon my fate and had my soul smoldered in Elysian Gold.

I stood still, as time watched me in patience
Having gripped every activity of life in a certain pause.
Anxiety spread like a Wild Majestic Galactic Fire
Oer the Threshold of the Unknown and the Known.

The Bard stood, to the fore.
Looking at my feet, it calming the dust under it.
Spake, thus:

"Dear Lords of Human fate, Peace can be but brought to me,
In the pleasures of Death or the as the Masters of the Human Sand,
'Tis more than any mortal could have hunger for.
It is the Eternal Sleep well deserved to them
Who liveth in the stricken labor of tide"

"My needs be not humble, lay so wandered,
Under a confused Sun and the troubled Moon,
Wisdom so wrought with self-disdain.
Fain, but I cease to think...
But, I choose to believe

Mortality if you take away Immortality from me,
The Only remains is me.
My immortality wouldn't be of virtue, If I had lived longer
more Than the pages of the sun proposes.
Death can only but harm me if I,
Was not a flame of passion,
Was never a smile for the season.

Thus, I choose to remain without both mortality and the immortal,
For my Soul speaks louder than any man hath said,
"Passion in me will be my Word bearer,
Even if Death takes me arrayed with its swiftness,
I will remain and stay, in my Words,
As the life of my Enlightened Immortality".

Maybe, a cloud drowned me in its Melancholy.