Day 2: Old man - the kettle steady keep

Old man - the kettle steady keep

So, old man, your cadence old souled, or did you like the butcher grid beak, attend a grop net fame. Do filter your crop to a child with top, not a budge on an angel gripped eyes slop.

~ Your cadence is just this, on my furnace cold snore, I will light a pyre, in continuation, to a kettle pour, no more.

I fashioned a mantle, in abidings fame, yet your vision still rocks, my nose, crop tame, and what have you in memories oft gleaned, a war so old, to topple a spill crept seam, and a voice, of the ether, of a moon’s edge voice, tailored slashed, I thought steamed?

~ Do not let me catch your throat, tailoring such wickedness again, the entries starved, centre field. You have no capture, with hands sowing old flown, to your memories starve greetings flame? I have captured the muck distilled beak, mid-sight flown obstacles tame, grain. You need to confront the shadow ill spoken net, and find the backdrift loft crept.

Do not tailor me, my machinations, or favourings hid mid-strike blind, my hands are clean, but buchered with heartless abandoned, to cement the darkened trophy, a crow a timepiece glean, and bale all efforts to a heart stroke night, his entries are hid, not yours to stroke blight.

~ Your working is excuses, in occurances rare, his well being is questionable, to cement, a dark breach moon glare. Yet, you fashion these daggers, to cement ease with tease, and leave me to ponder, what eyes cemented dark net, lit set, grease, you will not release, filter sneeze?

You do like to tailor this greeting hid flame, do cement the eyes in future, to woes, not downbeat, a phlegm gem, grain. Reset the eyes, on your filter abandoned seek, it is just you and I, old man, and the kettle, the handle in backstroke beat, or do you wish to challenge your anger flight seam, the throat to a nectar of the moon groped ugliness, you hand rotten flight beam?

~ You are a dark trophy, in the midnight stream, the kettle has been ready, for an eternities rest, yet, you will find, the throat duct, tightened net profit offset remark seamed. I have lightened the entry, to the coward knit gleaned, and your trophy the time, on clockwork, blighted, poured net steamed?

Do not till your wars with moon glittered beamed, I washed my hands of the crow, and foul device, reflected passages, of misfortune steam seamed, and groped the moon with hands lit, with blessed cowards, silence stroke net kind, and pushed the cowards lips, to a morcel, to hands lit blessed with weddings seamed crop let net blits crept loft divine

~ You worry, the stain, the game so eagerly won, you would crop the working, my eyes set stun, and sever the link, the other hands, groped steam, and flash the crow, with his beak severed stem greet?

I do as I wish old man, safety passages, not your old thrush, on spectacles remarks hidden in comfort grain. Do till your own remarks to hands in physicality, in rememerances gifted light gleaned, no eyes that tailor gifts to rememberances old, to catch the legs, of a hound in ugliness backdrift forewarned foreworded escape light seamed. What is your hound in ugliness depart? A cave stratching or scrawling on your beak sowed found? Do filter the eye, on something more worthy of discussion, the scratching of cave dwellers, that seam idle remedies, in moon ridden customody blind.

~ A sigh to recollect, the scrawling light not mine. The hound, is not a scratching you should have found, in the sight prolong. I simply sit, on my own, with the kettle hit stream, and a cup … you sense the moon’s fame beat, I see it now. A crafty consumer of a fly, hid beat, a flesh to carve, the sucking sowed greet, on the skin, of culprit hid light as night. Secure the backdrift motion stem voice phlegm. I will do a working this passing day, recollection throat stem, and memory gleaned, the sight, and moon hid woe, I can tailor a greeting, stop … the eye detects a fleeting sown greet, the culprit, a being, or an entity mission a drop blood does it escape your gum hid knowings now gem fleet?

I remember the working as day as night, but night is not a working to a coward sown, his heart hurt tight. I secured a working with your opening hid stem light, yet your working was foul, so I tainted it flash night, so you could abandon your toe and woe, in blame grow, and shelter in misery, till the moon hid snow.

~ Do not eye, my weight machinations to stem, in greetings blame. A drift of I, not stem to fame, and blame myself in greetings parting companies stir. A hound, to slow, in decay drifted beak sieved eager flapping strung.

Secure the eye web net then old man, your working, with your talent, is not something I can tailor in abandonment grow. Secure the moon, and clear it in your working hid fame, not a fashioned humour, for a lesson gripped blame, or tilted to a child, to secure mid-night greet. Pour the entry old man into the cup hid greet, that flowers to arrange, a passing hound slip neat.

~ Do no tempt your eye hid grain, your hand still is butchering my sight, inwards towards obstacles tame. Slide your hand outwards, on my company hid parting take, and I will secure the reading, in appatures light detect, and rid the blame of fame, in partings stroke night, I have a time to abide in this dwelling kindings rid shaped, your hand stroked midnight, yet holdings light eyes tame night a cane.

You know what I want old man. Do not delay the offset this day, or I will slight the mission to more experiments gripped insane, and flush your arrogance, to your eyes, lit night, and butcher the grains, of your sandles hid sight, till the grains rewell, in my burnings his stem, and seed all the sands, to a recovery broken night, and shape the sun to the moon, and clay hid filth, your soul I will collect, in a cup to dwell, and motion to greet, your footings slipped grip eyes tight nip. Now secure the offset, or I will experiment with more than your eye grip sore detect, and do not filter my motion stead on your hand gripped right tame. I need the working immediately sandle lit, not eyes knit greetings, motioned tame lame grain. Off with you now, old man, and do as the dwelling kept greetings fame redirect, no idle meananderings on old musings his wisdom loft detect.