Froth,
This acrimonious liquor acidic up to the brim,
teaming with an amorous annointed damsel.
She's just an adored overused amulet.
Froth, from the fourth fortunate fluffed shaved heads to
shape this fluke of a snake.
To fight and flunk. "Such fortitude" they will say.
Froth, like coddled eggs,slain within the unclaimed stainless steel
blade for a matted martyr.
Cup and clench its heritic edges.
Shed your skin and dangle above my lips,wide abroad.
Let me taste your finale of fallacies.
Froth, on my astral plane canopy bed.
Be content to the discomposure I speak.
For if dysfunction was a function then I must be some kind of genius at stake.
How complex can I be huh?
IF I AM FROM MARS!
