Amid This Night Her, Tender Dove
Twenty-one years young bending her lovely beauty over at
Our state hospital within the latreen; golden locks her tender
Ivory bliss going deeply into this, her soft sweet, desirous dreams..
Moaning gentle these rivers which flowed ? But I could nay remember
Her priceless beauty's name ? Suicidal tendecies and I never knew
What her trip was ? I suppose that we could speak unto a psychologist
Finding their retro of petro's, theories themes as scenes; yet why do such....
Baby girl, wherever you are ? A kiss to your beautiful lips and hold you, in my arms.
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