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Description
It’s a brand new day, still no mythical fae and the dawn comes here.
Talk with the simpleton, ten singles for that sticky bun, put on your peasant gear
For the night is lost, gone the words of Faust, the day brings anew those few destitute.
Let the lover sing his song, kerouac lost his bong, and the lord melodious on his flute.

Drink to the brink; forget the brain’s stink, for the night is to live for.
Be not harmed by spite, be not guarded of your sight, toddy is your newfound lore.
Maladies everywhere, bombs drop and no humane care, unkindness of ravens haunt me
Beached whales, electricity and geometric planes, ravens lurk in the London belfry.

Walks on water, of the highest Alma Mater, existent or a dream yet to be told?
Pop culture overwhelms the world. Sour milk should be hurled. They leave us in the cold
Movies and music, history has seen them stick, but now they deteriorate and bloat
James dean loved his Porsche, Russians use wine when it could be borsch, our sins on the riverboat.

The Goddess rules over us all, yet still no existence of her call, which true faith you wonder?
Dylan the name of two men of poetry, words rankle of melody. They speak to you of thunder.
Religion and surrounding myth. Nectar mixed with ground pith, questions of how the clay will mold.
Mercury and Jupiter, Vayu and Indr the trickster, myth pantheons liken a poker hand about to fold.

The beatnik lost his euphoria, the soldier said to him “see ya”, yet some still philosophize
Faust dies due his ineptitude; life misplaces vigor with despair imbued. Fiddle with the devil for a rise.
Thoreau lived of the land, Emerson betrayed him to the worldly band, misplaced trust.
No sense crying over spilt milk, blood on the assassins scarf of own ilk, steely nerves rust.

No end to song, no place to belong. Is it true of heaven and its decision of what two in a pair?
Two bums to a shared drink, no misplaced trust only a brotherly link, no cat in your hair.
The rains falls heavily, heaven’s door opens with the right key, a puddle covered with a gentleman’s coat.
This the poet writes, unkindness of ravens don’t go without a fight, end note.

Description
It’s a brand new day, still no mythical fae and the dawn comes here.
Talk with the simpleton, ten singles for that sticky bun, put on your peasant gear
For the night is lost, gone the words of Faust, the day brings anew those few destitute.
Let the lover sing his song, kerouac lost his bong, and the lord melodious on his flute.

Drink to the brink; forget the brain’s stink, for the night is to live for.
Be not harmed by spite, be not guarded of your sight, toddy is your newfound lore.
Maladies everywhere, bombs drop and no humane care, unkindness of ravens haunt me
Beached whales, electricity and geometric planes, ravens lurk in the London belfry.

Walks on water, of the highest Alma Mater, existent or a dream yet to be told?
Pop culture overwhelms the world. Sour milk should be hurled. They leave us in the cold
Movies and music, history has seen them stick, but now they deteriorate and bloat
James dean loved his Porsche, Russians use wine when it could be borsch, our sins on the riverboat.

The Goddess rules over us all, yet still no existence of her call, which true faith you wonder?
Dylan the name of two men of poetry, words rankle of melody. They speak to you of thunder.
Religion and surrounding myth. Nectar mixed with ground pith, questions of how the clay will mold.
Mercury and Jupiter, Vayu and Indr the trickster, myth pantheons liken a poker hand about to fold.

The beatnik lost his euphoria, the soldier said to him “see ya”, yet some still philosophize
Faust dies due his ineptitude; life misplaces vigor with despair imbued. Fiddle with the devil for a rise.
Thoreau lived of the land, Emerson betrayed him to the worldly band, misplaced trust.
No sense crying over spilt milk, blood on the assassins scarf of own ilk, steely nerves rust.

No end to song, no place to belong. Is it true of heaven and its decision of what two in a pair?
Two bums to a shared drink, no misplaced trust only a brotherly link, no cat in your hair.
The rains falls heavily, heaven’s door opens with the right key, a puddle covered with a gentleman’s coat.
This the poet writes, unkindness of ravens don’t go without a fight, end note.