Sinister minister
So seems the thinnest fur
Exacting a product
That seems not so pure

Restless arpeggios
Flowing with deadly prose
Memetical mimicry
Fading for growth

Pretensive attentive
A product of pensive croak
Choking and laughing
Until I am pure

Lewdly astounding hounds
Howling in outer bounds
Chains of my pardon
A quest not in time

Seething with endless rage
Foaming to fill the cage
A rebirth of custom
That seems not so pure

Sadly my ghostly bounds
Feel not for inner rounds
Looking for glory
I hurdle the rest

Prolonged and indignant
A function of will bent
Solely for power
This mask is still voiced

Leisurely, lady-like
Whip out a pocket knife
Slashing and turning… strangely alluring
Crickets sing fiercely
A dogmatic trade

Rivets in engines
Suspension and tension
Beastly equestrian
Feed me your role

Starts to flow nice when you read it once or twice.
Oh Moonius, how your words entice
Crazy fucks