Let me go.
A beginning.
Freedom and care.
Tribulation and stares.
Introductions and the inductive
treason. That's a dedux,
less than a monotony.
Minutes are minutes to
the hand, and they do
not talk. Heavy feet
will kill the land.
Leavened wheat
will buck the
gland. Or that's
what you'll find
if you search. Besmirch
the again-searchers
for attention. The
tension resists the
breaks. The brakes
resist the oils. The
long coats consist
of a nominal phenomenal,
an abominable concomitant preponderance,
a bathroom of a throne,
a miniseries produced for the benefit
of all living and non-living beings.
It's a trap, a crap shoot, a clapping boot.
Shoes cannot be possessed.
Progeny are obsessed
with progeny,
at least according
to tradition.
Roman Ryan 