Cold hurts..& the one’s that didn’t,
Grilled in captive I’m by it’s time’s..
Rotate where & burns..my sun’s light & in it’s sprinkle,
Tinkers the sounds of summer,
Evened in hurt a knowing-of being alright,
Lurk’s a hurt of a time when rift it came to life.
Little straights of road, the hunting grounds,
The rest are ‘spersed with pieces of my,
Bottled like a wine, know me by a smile I bring high,
Stop in my dark-the world be a treason & I a righteous knight’
