found her

lost pencil shavings i may seem goulish. yesterday I cooled it. it's so foolish waiting for the peace gauze each line speaks low a reaper at the door fountains breathe pause now we keep in-store a breach leaves of gore eats at my tree evermore love is broken yet not lost an open guess it worked. nah we dead inside never died this i let slide like a feather as it falls forever lies from a grave deeper poet slave to his own shame late on a hone lane spoon fed all lyrical pledge me now. spiritual edge.