Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

Pressed into tragedy
exacting ransoms in their entirety
throw off shackles why? I'm weary
lost in my idol
call it complacity

Pressed and pressed and pressed again, papers suppressed and thoughts revoked, breathes and coughs and coughs and chokes, the air was hot I don't remember when.
Find you pen and write it down three parts to depart with ink and blood fill it's void, it's fantasy
slip back to complacity

Slide she said in un done tone, find your thoughts and dreams to roam
slide in fact and slide again slide in dreams where feathers bend, slide your days until the phone, wake to dream you were alone. Slightly off and slightly free slightly less of you and me, slightly gone, still eyes are free, rest me there complacity.

The needle in the needle out, freak and fold, hung up on poles. Sun in warmth with strides to high, crying, our unearthed foundation.
Famine feasts and finds us fasting nearing on the everlasting, verge of heaven, maybe insanity
shedding our complacity.

Lay me down, while splatters and trickles, reach the sides the forth drawn sickle
lay me down in beds of clay, mold me, sculpt but find a way
to reach through walls millennia old
draw me back into the fold
lay to find in trance and beat, cast off complacity to be complete.