stumble upon the shell, a wellspring that i–shan’t wish for the moonbeams. (re: touched the brush)

blues, come with me. lead to my tears and naught inward the lame-line. holds tightened, thy & i, not being apart. my behaviour. northeast in pristine, i shouldn’t go anywhere for belief in future. wait, wait until the moon rises. often dart into starry eyes, compassionate dies. thrown from my quill, the rage spoken, “i’m surely open my mind, in awe i ask for an enquiry–would you like to look over me? i’m blessed nonetheless venture from an inferno.” merely forbidden, i’m the ground to the eardrums. i’m quiet, nothing withdrawal at these scraps. destiny of missing, suave lucifer’s roar. i came, sobbing, deadbody. solemn sight, numb: dearest witness, you should grist down into its sanctuary.