Milky Eye Of Plato

Color, no longer is fodders, a vision bleak the crow Commons foggy leather cap, my weather unseasonable refined in progression logistic's leaps past sightless, of eye reproached Freedoms missing wrists, cannot be unshackled, falsettos etching denouncements, is a block of souls ringed of crimes. Passion without cries in Christ, penurious of mind, drafts paper is Communion at law, like snow flakes drift to melt, formless. I speak not of Rome, grand nude, devoid in breath, full pompitous leaned mouths of marbles, chipped lip to cup last David dropp. Jettison hope, sitting mountain casting clouds of doubt, shedding warmth restricting flow bloods river slows hidding eye of milk to lose a branch, fig less hand in hemlock is just one last word.