keim is a gurnard's fist fighting for flight above the sea's tall
I am a (gray) heron whose errand's be of bliss feeding on a fish's gall
I am like a white crow cawing on a wire
You down are a fool's gold shining in fire
I am a cat bush whose mewing alone sends cassowaries back hole
She is a rough rat whose head had held heated by furnace's scroll
I am a dragon whose wings reach the beast in the East to West
You are the cowering wind whose words be so shallow in contest
I am the new book whose body be quite blur-some for scribes to reel
You are a piece of paper wobbling past whose light my droolings still
I am an orator whose jargogle be so sequacious well enough to win
You are the rotor whose cyclic existential being, around ambiences I solely pin.
About a lady I kempt
For my home's, tempt
About a girl so hurting
About my bro so curting
She thinks me weak
Olam help us peak
She shall know this
Be gracious we pleas
My ire is awry n' can aye fry
She shouldn't push me, try. ;)
