Time to damn up the wall. 
There are no traces. 
Net from evil only ?
mitigated to mystical uniforms? 

Wild flowers blowing across
a nullah of stirring oil.
Swarming yes weeping knots yes --
opening up the midnight forges.

Sweet shattering blazes
illuminating schisms
and ravaged corners.

Cease cease that educated dungeons 
devils junk?
The magnifying glass, repels. 

There can be no permissions 
pur sang, 
only silent foils
gestures that spring
as a feverish field 
of territorials.

Hopes fervent treason 
piling up like a fountain
pouring out, 
licks the brain. 

Mulitples long distended, 
a trembling willfullness --
that gaffs with ardor, 
and the sun comes out
and the mist where it dazzles -- 

but evil requires a net
to approach the lie is to die.
It was indefensible.

Hideous balcony
its theatre is that gift.
Rythms whose peaks 
hawk in circles,
exalt the purple --
colors that molt and rift.

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