ACT III

In disgust, in reign, in innocence, it was all that stood flat upon my shoulder in times of reckoning and belief. It was told outwardly and beneath the true tower, and how the elderly placed for peace and reassurance as moments upon moments fell on me, only to stop breathering for a past time. As you're trying, as I'm trying, all that was left for us to build was a walk of peace. As defiance in retrospect, angst above the clean and dryth of the capsule. I walk in and fore and out the chapel past time followed by rage and thee. It was there. I was told I sunk the ship with flash bangs of reminiscence, a jolt rock for the expertise I had crafted in a roll over. 

A shake by the hand. 

A delusion in I've made my bed towards the plastering of my lowly words with a fresh space between the eyes. A refusal for a will but with a new age for hope standing in the middle of the road. In dreams he was brought back to me once more, all ceased of the heartbreak and betrayal, fury within the explosion in the sky in retracting the steps beyond the fortress. I resisted in lettering to him between the madness and uncontrol. Hands knew I could string a new disease in truth of spite but it was all clueless now. A vow of a whistle, I peaked a new love for my memory and its relapse of the play. I was pictured through the edge popping off as I was able to go coherently, despicably. My love lasted a lifetime, over several hills where I made possible through each dip and curvature, through flocking places with each instant piered of a being. A memorial has been resided and it is hell -like hell on the skin, on my knees, and above my mind. The door was never locked behind me, and you were headed towards the basement – towards falling apart till the money ran out. But in each segment, you led me to a divide. I asked you if you believed in the rapture and it was understood to you like a stranger.