Grips of the thought to be lunar eclipse,
Strengthened, tighter,
The thought to be lunar eclipse appendages,
Held on to the greatest of the great,
An elite of the elite
The Architect, the Cadaver Architect
Had to decide, really fast, Her vessel
The Architect, the Cadaver Architect’s vessel,
Was falling, weakening, and crumbling
A vessel, which many souls and spirits
Admired, and wished to have and own
The Architect, the Cadaver Architect,
Made up her mind, with assistance
From her surviving last creation
Administered poisons were destroyed
Promises of The Preacher’s Daughter
Intervened and conquered
The Preacher’s Daughter,
Won over all designated rescuers who came
To present day,
The designated rescuers have no idea
Of the administered poisons’ whereabouts
But they speculate,
Administered poisons were not consumed
By the vessel, of the architect,
The Cadaver Architect
And the Preacher’s Daughter, was involved
The Architect, the Cadaver Architect,
She was gone, never seen again, or heard from
Her creations, designs, works
And all those, the Architect,
The cadaver Architect inspired, still live on
Her surviving last creation,
Possesses Her traits, only a few
And it resisted,
The Hand of The Preacher’s Daughter
Nor promises of The Preacher’s Daughter
The surviving last creation, still blames itself
Since every time the blood moon falls
Lighting down the soils from high up in the skies
Memories of how administered poisons were destroyed
Fill up the mind of the surviving last creation
Despite of all chaos, rakus and commotion
Going on then, and is still happening now
The Architect, The Cadaver Architect, still reigns
And she will still reign
Even when you and I are gone.
Captured Life Insights from Ricocheting Regrets, Sadness in my Positivity. Accessed in several stores and libraries in electronic and audio formats. All Rights Reserved.
Plapus 