The clearing of the mists.  Whispered prophecies scream of truth.  Vertebrae holding its last ounce  All ligaments twist,  but you never listen.  His tears shock like the chair.  A home,  to spend a fortune in dreaming.  Shades or shapes,  it's all in disarray  and stones still stick in my teeth.  Salt in the mouths.  Cover the ulcer.  Call it regression.  Aeons of passion cannot amount to nothing.  The Contours of Temptation  bleed from the eyes of guilt.  Redress the demons of lonely's inhibitions.  An aching undermined.  Misery encased and embalmed.  Pure thoughts of you.  Her wings have spread and poisoned me.  Amnesia calls.  ...and although her conscience is broken  She still remains a portrait  (A moment for the taking)  Still I forget  For the Heart has its distance  to fulfil and to nurse  in this promise I sought.  But still the decay has me bound.  In this chaos I revel.  For home has been built.