Alaska. Cinnamon. Snowflake.
Crippled catechism of hope.
I saw the rain that was coming.
I saw the rain that cleanses smokestacks.
Windowless, promises are stoked.
I can make the perfect angel breathe.
You lose the things that fired up legions.
Legions subsume you in time.
Throbbing beats, cash in hand.
Time is a pit that swallows gold.
Just a minute, chase and feed Blues.
Legions subsumed me in youth.