My features, "thy moulding of my father, with mother's face," how innocence yet youthful, the world to embrace.
by Charles Copeland
Thine own tears woes as a running spring, I've separated the thirst, of a dying transfiguring society.
From birth the God's sing,..." the blending of my likelihood." I bring passion like a cloud of rain on dry land. Can I, can I! Leave this life with pride as a freeman?
Full-grown, 'the spanned pain is an abundance of horror." The memories have enhanced many fears about life. Shall I expand life?...I sing of love and joy.
A fiery momentous memorable affair, that well forever burn. I will clang to my conviction to please my image. But what about other's forecast of, the unquestionable future?
The faces that dawn my dreams at night, were my love one's They said "farewell" to thee, the glare, and stare. And yet "farewell" was on their sweet faces, good bye my love's.
I feel guilty, thy self left behind, a pit of some size, I am myself in this time, until I die.