Monday, June 25, 2007


My days of sober retreat is far gone in a haze, all my songs was shimmering sweet yet it seldom fell on those SILL'S. Standing alone in those canopies of josh some frost I fled to those grove's sublime attic.. O replenish thine frugal lure by a tangibility.hear to soon finishing heart's buzz .O mirth some felicity
of that solemnity rejoice those Joyce albeit fail to seek that mystic steep. ire fickle mind's fastened frailty.
trivial discussion of her distinctions.O bleak soothing night it's black let those frights go away,make me strong as a ray.YORE CRAFTED IN FEEBLE LURE MY WOOS EDGED THE RUSTING WIND OF DAWN .