Lost sins attribute to the cool flow of air.
Blessed with the curse of eternity – the green tears lack what beasts behold, souls of burgundy
That cave’s opening, whisper, whisper, purges the stone path of cracks and misfit travelers.
Wooden utensils correspond to shrubbery and firmament, that of which guards fraudulent entry.
Everlasting, white rain drowns the weeping moon, whereas the sun grooms with forecasting pain by dawn’s noon.
Someday soon, shallow marrow will graze the fields as sparrows and kneel.
Are you lost if no one seeks?
Branded by an enchanted peek.
The mouse squeaks on a vacant peek.
Forsaken peeks squeak on an enchanted mouse, branded by vacancy.
Death pulses in a pair plus surplus minus redundancy.
Blindness seeks for the jealous that lusts.
Are you lost, Mr. Moss? Or are you confused?
~That Dude Eddie~
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Love and Peace.