SINLESS AIMS
The angelic hearts
Is never bleeding.
Aesthetic burn out
Of the painless souls.
What help my tears
Is my feeling insights.
What assist my joy
Is my moody pages.
The rhythms make
My body into motions.
The traditions make
My actions into stages.
The encounters make
My dictions into staines.
A step kills many
As an intentless warrior.
A body homes a lot
As the natural settlers.
There is no sin
In the words of enlightening.
Everything makes
The feelings into body.
Heat a rod to a red glow
Cold a red glown rod.
Sacrificing my tougue
To the pages of peace.
My whole body is the meats
Of the shrines of my life.
The Satan is never sad
But our souls in the shrines.
Have we ever see devils
But evils is being felt.
Committing the crimes
Is cultless in cultured courts.
There is on sin
The messages of the time.
The colour you love
May be offensive to me.
What makes my joy
May tease your angers.
Stainless are rustless
Sins are volatile food
Of the laws of the land.
In law, there is do and don't,
The don't limit the right laws.
The feelings might balance
The peace is an atom of war.
I may wish you well Oppose you mean.
I may give you an hint
You may think a gossip.
The sweet candy of left hands
May taste more bitter of right hands.
The missions of the time
Speak in tongues and hands.
I beat my feet steps on ants
Mute my words for swordless wars,
Close the eyes to less blinkered
All are gist for peace in shrines.
Sinless aims
Where I wish to construct
Most l do with destruction.
Broken the bottle
The package of the goods,
All the days make the nights.
Where is the post of forgiveness
In the palace of the sin.
Worry and struggling
Toss the tracks of sin.
The tails of the stories
Make world of the sinners.
Broken the glasses
The screen of the secrets
The sins are forgiveness.
Offences are breakable,
Take a forgiveness
Is a free of charge.
Be sinless aims
Always free of characters.
Broken the calabashes
It can be mended at time.
Carving the gourds
To the shrines of the judges
The case may never favour you.
The calabash turns down
We must open it up,
If it opens not,it most break.
Let cleaning this land
The domain of the turgs.
Liberating with the spirits
When the spirits of sin
Is tackling the pipu.
Apeace the lords of universes
To see the sinking eyes of the sinners.
Liberating with the weeds
To creat more Wildcats.
Carving the woods
To the shrines of the man
The case may never be a crime.
