It's Fawl Horsey with the devil's preformance. Moonlight, what you saddle on to me

This trepured dilemma tolls the bell hourly

Weteric twisting the catapult strings tossing spangling wrangling into the endless sea

oscillates incubus curses on slumbering bodies on scrupulous thirst

The morning is met with certainty of them taunting

Unknowing wits with a tide sudden shift day

Eyes pared only a fell on beginning this rule sudden shift day Eyes paired on the air

Beginning this room

Droping now dangling looping of the moon

It's erupting out of the devil's mouth

It's when all the kind words turn terrible.

It's when all the birds turn to the words

of COVID in the tongue of the water.

Fertive dirt, turf bearded, and tired with litteration. I'm I'm I'm

I'm

I'm

I'm

I'm Winter with your gall in advances you veil the dark with cold snorts that it sparks

circular seatings pro-optical feeling arranged in a pattern that turns, tips, separates

that you can't move the chance loose and light in all the ground, nearing its feeling and hypnotizing sound the timber stands as the crowd passes out

it's when all the kind words turn to go his voice was Wonder The Holy audience

Drawing their names

...