tirips ythrae (earthyspirit) wrote,
tirips ythrae
earthyspirit

yes but the weight is getting to be a little much

the word is god
god is the word
the is word god
the god word is
god is word the
god the is word

sound is god
the is sound word
the was word sound
the sound god word
all words are the word
all souldiers march for gods word

al a pee nut butt air sand which is ahhhh chi

he add jug bet he ver o nikka sin

my mind is sharp and full of wandair for the shape a view is passion inflamed and desire brewing in open water on the shores of cocklee manor

youve been here all along and yet gone with the window blinds and shutters open for the view how marvelous and horribly rancid the state of our affairs

what sense you where the screens turn sand into air and space

where is the space between grains of rain and seeds of stone white shadows seek dark plaxe and light up the way to our feminine wiles the bars are open and the lads on shore leave seem dainty fine and ripe for the pick king

wear the tight dress and mini bra but no shirt and wave hell oh wave the boys in to the quay where ship way anchor adoni my lover lost yet found shipwrecked on a not so deserted isle he plays with mat and tim two fae island sprites jilted from their chance at greyharbor yet gifted with adoni quay

it does never end this fleeting flight of life worth killing how can it so be when be has no solid state for the seaming, sow water is without purchase and thread now the sails which stride is true and lies north south of the eastern westerly corner of this round round figure eight shaped tablebottom
where are the legs as they stand pinned to the ski with irises made of the arms and spines of skeletons there is no treasure here, it was gone lonely chest has need of companion, if no comes toom the contract for the check is moot and the chest gets returned to its owner unfilled yo ho hum

I know you are not what you claim to be
you wear a million masks and yet none are your true form
the sound of you is megantic and unreal
the length of your rod unmeasurable and clearly vast
though where it is i cannot see you hide it from me in your hide
how can this be the giving is the coming and the going at row onw up is me please sing you

please sing you
your crime is the last precious weight i would hear before singking
last precious moment would be dasterdly if gifford woud me and won
how can the sound of you be so loud and odd i hear it now

how odd where it is
when how was it
and it was where how heard
the now and then are gone but ever remains
arising to the heat of your presence and flame
the pain is here again its always here and i listen
for its call is that of my dove or my lark and his fig leaf
if he would adjust his telling to my listening the fear would listen

the fabric of fabric is sound
the sound of sound is fabric
the sound of fabric is fabric
the fabric of sound is fabric

one fa bric after another

i pull you in and push you out
i push you in and pull you out
you push me and pull me
out is in and in is out
can you d get
get d you can
wide reciever

first base
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