sweet imagine rumpus on the floor of what

sweet imagine rumpus on the floor of what
transacts to purpose given deceit is such a
lonely word and nary is only but carry is
holy and wholly we go to frolic in zero.

sum of this rage given forward unforgiven
to men in uniform to cancel all reverence
to dance will our lust in the streets be null
and our life less than dull by state paid hero.

one can just think of a Time in the future
where all of the children can play without
suture and every moment given is the Love
we have lived in as what should be purpose.

but till then we abound in the pleasure unfound
as we play games of torture and destruction is
our orchard when all should be treasured of
much to be pleasured and never to hurt us.