Peace.

CeciliaCecilia was a bright little girl and she loved her parents very, very much; of course, she loved her stuffed pink hippo Florence Sunshine very, very much too. Today is your birthday, Mr. Florence Sunshine, she whispered to the toy as she skipped home. Her trek from the park to her plain blue house was covered in old side walks and the occasional yard or two. She skipped hard in her yellow summer dress, her golden curls frosted by the sunny day. Finally eyeing her house through the bushes and branches framing the yard, the rosy-fleshed girl moved in full sprint to the weathered front door.&nbCecilia


On Existential MoralityOn Existential morality-though-we take our lives In every form fashion, shape and ideology We toil away the miraculous-in hives- From shipyard to sunset (never in private eulogy!) We falsely debunk-with groves of rigid knives- Forfeiting the milky streets among poisoned apology Of Existential morality-however-we take all lifeOn Existential Morality
From factory to field; poised facades risen The evanescent, the pneumatic, the Best, the Worst Given dualy, worship and deconstruction; homeward it is driven To seek truth in light and not placid ebony, is first, Tethered, sewn, and silenced-Forcibl


Don't Delay My heartPart IDon't Delay My heart
You dare to pass me With fragrant lips Sunny hips And unrelenting beauty
Who is to say That I (most enthralled by your presence) Are ample more than most in this fickle play To taste and toast upon thy beauty essence
Please! Oh, please! Don't delay my heart From wondrous encounters Whilst I play this pleasant part And dance on lively embers
Part II
How many times must I lay With you embraced, and Commit These mortal crimes For which I must pay In the brimstone pit
How much lon