A deficiency of wine
Oh how the devine
The sublime and the unlined of time
Picking up the buck
Passed by one to the other by hand
Past upon the table over a thought of loneliness
Whites out
Lights on
Concentration is a game of deceit and regret of times over and over
Scientific oblivion is on the horizon for the destructive nature of the men with the genocide and the bills of the towers in the hours of the mention forethought
Sit down good sir how I would love to defeat your essence in the hands of the unified corporation
Placed inside the line of another brand
Branded a poet for life
Branded to the sight of the undone