under the willows injured by the crevices of oldness and the bark which hath been clawed by the eau de nil of this tumbling catharsis, dancing around my onyx locks created by falling serendipities and greasy kisses; collapsing against the bristly shore of the escaping earth— into a (tenebrious) gist, a disheartened whisper of a fallacy wishing to be carved from this itin bonne humeur like tendrils (of hair) gushing against a rainstorm of crying stardom, accompanied by this visceral grip (of madness) chiming against a brewing tempest of despair, screaming a hail of petals towards the cliff over which a sun kissed beauty stands like sienna dewdrops of a midwinter prowl.

now all are swept (into a moral panic) because of these thoughtless minds who give appraisal to injustice, taking away from the good and giving to the rich: robinhood reverse, wailing a thousand oceans; and tell me why this idiocy (is a crisis, a disease that) spreads like wildfire to touch even the dot of the horizon (a sunset yellow that brings no equity in this tormented world) and causes the earth to fall, fall towards the fingertips of this sixteen year old who realizes that this spinning dulcet would have fallen since the first revelation of truth and fate.