Should my confession sound bizzare
And the hearing so uncut and raw to thune ear
I beseech the as i mean not defy thy holiness
I only holdeth it no more
Dear thee, please bear with me the stress
My thoughts and mission to thy hionourable self
Was to dance to thy gallery and explore it with zest
For the coolness of thy face
Filleth my heart with wants
And that firmness of thy bidy
Waters my mouth with lust
Hath thou not been healthy in thy morals
My boots marcheth forth in thy dynasty
Takes it full charge as i traverse its walls and corners
Alas! that quaint honour of thee
Ambushed my thoughts and left my mouth ajar
For thy humanity carries a level of purity
That ashames that loin of mine and what in it dangles
Scrotal paralysis, thou hath derailed its usefulness
Milady, cutes as puffin
Moralled my thoughts
Cleansed my raws to chastity
And thy decent
Washeth my mind black and white like a pug
Has thee hath brought my thoughts to post-pubescence
My loin-cloth are fast tight and virility sedated
And that mystique of mine now subtle to cuddle thy vibe
So milady do pardon my naivity
I only from my teenhood had been a sexual pugilist
Has my forenoon thoughts of you lacks good taste like a kitsch
Now i've found thy being as my abode and laundreth
Embrace me on this road to chastity i've beckoned
As i've taken a worthy note that all that matters isnt what the loins conceals
No comments:
Post a Comment