Buy what the ravens want you to buy.
Distangle the threads of peace and die.
That is the plan you don't follow.
A stratege suffers when his eye's hollow.
Muliebrity of the mass
is nothing compared to the dainty's grass.
You love like a vile assassin.
Your bouquet is also a gun.
You garden poppies on bodies.
I feel the fun from the follies.
You are a cygnet with a plumage of Cabaret.
You bloom in my lungs like the drool of a cigarette.
