Life's Little Lamentation

Canaries fly through somerset blooms of winter morn Against the paint of heaven, swiftly go they passeth the blight Pleasing sight they are, a mass of surprises and of thorns Pursuing they are of acceptance, success and of fame amidst tides Kindred hearts to match their souls, blended minds come alike Enduring hurtful falls and sickness all Questions of Thy existence, and why the persistence Undermining thus Thy yonder love of mercy and redemption And off they fly, each filled earthly guilt and filth Life sacrificed, bounds and entwines the bonds of love Patience marches then their weary souls Keep going, it says you have long but the way, short but the time they were told And off they fly again, never looking back as their stories unfold

The stains on my clothes bear witness of a bloody blood bath which costs me treatment rough and few hundred of bucks. The stains on my clothes bear witness of spiky spring which costs me whole of winter and whose wrath i wring. The stains on my clothes bear witness of a flimsy flower which costs her the title and the big head as a tower. The stains on my clothes bear witness of a bloody blood bath which costs me my life but a sniff from ye, a smile from me.

Faces, fleeting faces how art thou judgeth thy misery from afar fleeting faces ne'er miss Faces, fleeting faces how art thou judgeth and worth more heavenly from the star fleeting faces ne'er not deceive Faces, fleeting faces how art thou judgeth the impression from shadow fleeting faces ne'er fret Faces, fleeting faces how art thou judgeth the misery from afar fleeting faces, fuming face

How I miss my loves to thee, to think of all those good times, when we were freshies and joyfully giddy, it dawned on me, that this'll come to be. How I miss my loves to thee, the silence of splendours across the seas of silverish speeches the seven heaven of truthfulness and the ninth floor of eternal empathy. How I miss my loves to thee, the goodbyes under the hot scorching sun or the kisses beneath the alpine trees the sun that sets seems like none compared to the one I've seen with thee. How I miss my loves to thee, the tangible talks amidst tiredsome theatries the faces I've seen and compared to deities were and art to be thus, extremely. How I miss my loves to thee the frowns I mistook for smiles to be the crowd I felt you ceased to see the joy we've taken sent to you on ships of serenity.