October 10, 2016


The Fragrance Of This  Island Is Overwhelming And All The Scents Of The Arabian Perfumes,that Clasped Attraction, Befriends Its Golden Morn. What Strange Fancy Holds Your Birth,that You Cannot Realise ,the Morning Glory Nor A Man Born With Silverpoon And Nest Eggs, Still play With The Morning.How Much Worse For The Guttersnipes!Old Age Shall Indeed Be His Hell On Earth.Because I Am Never Loved,morningTills And Morning Toils,never Fail And All The Colours Of Rainbow,with Its Royal Robe Of Metro Romance Under Sun,of Ambitious Lust,and Of Everest Dreams,outliving Its Boiling Point,setting River Thames On Fire. Permit Me To Explore Thee O Adventure Of The Gulf;Of Mortals Pounding Itself,of Rivers Draw Within And Not Yet Crossed,of Mountains,not Yet Climbed,of Roads ,not Yet Paved And Crossed,of Beautiful Babies Not Yet Born ,of Song Not Ye Sung,of Dreams, Not Yet Dreamt,of Failure Not Yet Failed,to Conjure And Catapult Success Not Yet Hatched, Teaches My Scorned Horn To Catalyse for trigger of Its Glory.We Are In This Sallowed Mess...

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