Pawed to a point of utter betrayal – they murdered his beautifully truthful wife, whilst The South shall rise again…
A misshapen rain-cloud rises agonisingly above his shavenly barbaric head, yet he WILL undeniably amount, to all out power and persistence amidst blood n guts hardship
The only existence for him
Clout, Round #1 –
Bow down right by his shift to shape, float like a butterfly feet, a thunder punch to bring his dutiful daughter back from the brink
These metaphors abound like batshit crazy within his four cornered ring
Sting these creatures til their reach is lost
Billy boy, you anointed yourself an adopted Hells Kitchen Angel phenomenon… and they are about to mention your name round about every single holed-up, pockmarked, -sparked little training ring this side of everything
Where kids replicate til artificially intelligent – their minds are going to fail with amalgamated time, yet the gloriously traipsed after taste persists amidst these fury-laden enemies
She’s still watching you, stood sensationally atop suddenly settled clouds
About to cry tears of beautiful rain
