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What happens to me on my travels.
And what happened to me in my past.
He doesn't know what to feel.






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CR4FTPUNK
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Wed Jan 06, 2010 @ 02:52am
My dear, dear mon ami...tell me the truth and lies behind these poems. Tell me thy meaning, thy purpose, thy thoughtful soul's wish and whim. Thoust shall not repay and repent...thoust is worshipped among thy fellows, yet thee feels a...void of something?

Tell ist true, mon ami. Tee ist true, speak upon thy heart. Thy brain shalt not interfere. Whisper, whisper in my ear, mon ami. Tell ist true of the workings in such an awesome power of deity worthy creation... can thou shareth upon me?

Oh, mon ami, the pain that I feel upon and in my breast is but a dull murmur, but haste not of this speak, thou must oblige to my willing, like thee bird upon a willow branch, doth sit, and, upon said branch, spots thy prey. Thoust must oblige, for thou is the bird, and the bird doth pray that the prey is to be loved unto thou.

Please, gracious, kindly, friend, speak unto my ear, the troublesome woes forgotten not in thy heart, soul, and brain. Thy intelligence questions. Thy love doth speak of godly thought. Thy muse shalt not repent this, mon ami.


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