Liken that there was no reason, which gave no reason in the sun to rue the roost for sympaticos and politicos, akin to martial law for parking lots was like the sins of the father, how proud he being him oft and wont to wroth, and now to defenestrate the magistrate to fare as a cat after a mouse while the houses of the mountain watches like pointing hands and hours nary undone, and breaks my heart mine to see while the moss fades fowl without feigning, drops trow and starts feeding from the trough of mud, the way so many dozens a sight of any custom cartoon uninspired and born of liars unmistaken by only days beyond the tepid tyrannies tidal age of infancy infinitely insipid and vain, again that courses thru at least their eyes closed and egos consuming the air meant for life when nightmares of monsters give spoils to the spoiled and placated, by way of hypocrisy defined and tragedy aligned with lockstep jackboots and dark clouds for rainbows, the view of two as one.