Help Me

A doorway sent bent hell recollect, a child to claim, let sane, what bane. Upon the mantle gleaned with care, a violent entry, tilted head stair.

I come with hands pardoned kind, yet one angel bound, with gripping eyes will find, that staring flock, his necklace flown, the grip all angels, to two eyes ooze his throne.

Come a chuckle, I see your worth, the sight, has been stalled for some time to shirt. A pedestal ease, in light, some fleas, and a mind of comfort, in sightless loss breeze.

Do not use direction, with burned bridge ears, the sight, is all two hands, and a sandle point one left nears. Upon the cement, what filth would tier, cement your eyes, in a request heart fear.

Do not run your pardon bleet, I have wars so old, to crimes with feet. That once to find, my mission begun, the well is yours, yet an upbeat throne, what haggle in flame, two eyes bloodied, in tears a slight yours to tame.

Do you wish the pedestal old to fly, mine at wars, or ripples his tide flock wide?

I hear a throne, so angry loft, the birth of I, my death hid soft, yet what is he, who fashioned my ear be, an angry throne, or a red eye sidelook disown?

Pedestals of might your sight does see, yet the fallen comfort, my journey the sight to thee. Come, reset the eyes, and I shall gaze, winding visions, I can teach to haze.

And a chuckle to find, a bridge flocking sort, what child I will carry, to the sight, a passtime, woven greetings sort. There are many thrones to which to bind the eye bridge see, yet mine, in comfort, safety, to never flee?

Leave these pedestals of trashless worth, angels are, just names, muck finger dirt, yet, sold on wars, what light would seem, fashion in light, my words fingers grim beam, and sniff all doorways, presences seam, the light Michael’s eyes, I shall bestow sight ties.

A chuckle to see, his eyes, lightening breach tame, is hell a doorway, to an old way seam? Or a piece of filth, on eyes so old, that a knock within, would fly comfort sold?

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Did you think my eye seperated for a moment’s beat? You seem to think eyes pray loft, do not mangle my words here seamed, or correct theye to fortune fingers beamed. Lift the eyes, in tilted sow fight, confusion is, a certain blight – and you see my voice mid motion greet, did you think I worse so gentle feet?

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Oh Michael, do loft, your wares with care, your wars, are burdens not my capture fair. If you want to give me something fine, give me a pedestal not footing, two hid sign, and lift me your guidance in truth, one step, not abandon all steps, a child sublime, and rock on a bridge, to hide silent tie, you know the child is a distraction crime.

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Wars hid old, hid blinding fortold, I am sealing your eyes, to crimes children forewarned cold. They eat their breakfast, to seal mid-feast, and sell a child, in death, eyes birth dips beat. What is a child so eager flown, when eyes capture, then truth, eager, witches bred and pray pathways sown. Kill all children with a gaze, their eyes will dim, in lightening maze, and strip the morcel from their sums, a child with a toy, is not a sorted spirit guns.

Shape the eye to tilted sign, not doorways fighting child’s eyes lie, or tie, or flock where truth hid rock, you can not seal these doorways so blind to sigh, or lift the eyes your visage high.