Snowflakes, sweetly, wholly.
Blowing, fading, glowing.
Quickly, slooooooowly
Floating, soaring, roaring.
Empty, filthy, pity.

I ask you, or implore you, see beyond what he drew with his tears of black paint. Behind this, a brackish feint, an indulgence, a sight. A little streak of red and white to lie behind the lines he drew. He only wants what's worst for you. And drey.. he comes.

A deception of a simple shadow. He'll be gone when you get older. Snowflakes melting in the fire, sweetly smoking fruits of labour. Holy mountain send us higher. Quickly falling out of focus, detached retina slowly show us. Slowly open. Hocus-pocus. Blowing open dusted pages. Glowing incantations save us. Floating in the white abyss, I'm soaring in the white abyss, I'm roaring in the white abyss.

An empty vessel. Filthy gestures. Pitiful.

I hear you, and I see through
the double lines that drey drew.
*breath* his crocodile lies,
seeping from his swollen eye.
*breath* oh muse, muslin, sing
a telling song of white and pink.
*breath* What do I need to be
to overcome his worst for me.

I'm only sleeping.
He isn't here.
Should it be light out
if you are near?
Now when I see you,
why are you clear?
Why be transparent,
why be a glow?