Seasoned Reason

My might it is not like you have got. Our forces fought in chaos so fraught. To try stand tall it is just me teeth grit, behind chapped lip, my words but quip. You were essential, I strike with pencil, if need erase insult, if rancor my result. Forgive me I’ll fight with all of…

A Consuming Tune

Wrapped in you are by strings of a guitar. It sends you off afar; bliss can be bizarre. In your usual guise your magic does rise in tunes of my eyes you set aside disguise. I see your position, your posture glistens, to the music you listen to a bodies decisions. You immersed burn old…