Still... Never Is Your..Rose

Your face behind the mask..now hides.. cold thoughts...it is bloated full sated.. Even still your hands..as does the garden...shaken...moon rattled.. in good faith as you instructed..... always your..invasions withdrawles.. so orderly untill....It saw stars with... Venus..why do you hold other monses...? Why...Venus why? ...do you cry forsaken.. ...Did it not save you...from being stoned.... When last you circled Mars abusive..Attila said you..was he..in belief..it slew him.. and the many others..with this bloody spear.. Now it comes home.. into the tent..and is... overwhelmed...by armies of your roses.. ..You know it will only raise it's spear... .....in defense..as) it(s..feet sink into sands bed...