(written in '08)
In the forest, it seems, I'd feel suddenly pleased.
An attempt to up-heave what my walk slowly feeds.
Though, at times, it's as if it's never seen:
A good meal. So, it keels over and can feel itself eat..
..itself
A laugh comes from tickles, while my life ends near ripples,
That have found themselves deeper than any philosopher's riddles.
In the middle of ending, but began when the sending of settling was mending/defecting.
I'm condescending? Is that really the honest ending?
How conclusive is this(?): it all makes me wish,
That I had the nerve to serve her what my heart wanted to give.
"Deserve Her or Your Part's Given to Him"
Hark, the herald angel of sin.