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Accuse me of this, trusting what did I gest? |
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To think or confess, silence seems to be best |
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Speaking of words, accepting it would be worse |
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And solace comes first, it forfeits here in retrieving |
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Every last reason for wanting of evidence |
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With all things beside us that line up as residence |
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Everything left be a waste of time |
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Perfect as this, to only realize a guess |
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Conflicts can rest, what takes precedence next? |
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Keeping with words, how can I be assured? |
|
Solace comes first, it forfeits here in retrieving |
|
Every last reason for wanting of evidence |
|
With all things beside us that line up as residence |
|
Everything left be a waste of time |
