A gray mist hits..
Sublimity...
Shifts from Host to Ghost and back around.
A shallow pit, fall dipped in depth.
Gripped in...
Death divides Divinity.
Paradise.. To a shattered Solace.
Words are thoughts;
Winged....
Whether a bird, or ring if ever heard;
The Knock..
Sing.... In effort to urge, The Flock.
Scream if e'er occurred
The PLOT ;
Leave Blister and Burn it's
A Gift and a Curse
Don't skip church only to
wish once more to Kiss the Earth, but
BeFit and Sure not to
Miss your pick 'cause
The Picket Twists and Turns.....
ALOT.