Poetry generator

The Synonym Has Not Foreboded The Promise


In your fingernails of agony the night of wreaths respond. The room within hers
a history we tell in passing,
with notions of sincerity
and a passion for jouranlism and science
return to the homeland of the starry skies.

You are the lemon of my molested eye.
Noone here is waiting for the next home.
River. You lived yourself for trusting.


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