Consumed as Foundation Written Awkwardly  

Whist wind, thou dost deceive.

Green shield groves smite the carte blanche sereptitude, servitude, slander, slavery.

Drop the tears of God into the parched and vapid, moaning in repressed cages, 

Offered and offering solutions of finality, brutish and braying,

The leap and twirl glow in their eyes surgically removed 

With precision and respect for demand, which 

is a yawing chew of 

Bones, 

Unsatiable, like a 

National Treasure of Death.