An ocean overlaps the free will known to the common man.
I accept in being under -- but never plundered; for I am reborn?
Reprose, hastily rotting in a void.
The camera captures an inkling.
Suffer, North by a mass.
Centuries of murder, with dying decades of regret.
How frugal are the spectators?
How worthy are your servants?
How hungry is your soul?
Can you pacify the damned?
A discovered word conspired.
A dream never transpired.
A fixed demise not figured out.
I suppose we wilt . . .
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