GOOD FEAR, MY KIND SIR I
WOULD INVOKE FOR THINE
ABBERATION HAS STICHED THY
SOUL. TO WHAT, TO WHERE
A SULKY GLOOM AN ENDING
SONG THE PARRALELS GROOM.
SURRATED GROWTH, GRASS
SCALPEL MINCED, THE SURGEON
SOWS AND SOWS WHILE THE
PATIENT'S IMAGE WALKS ABACK
INTO A FRESH CORSPE LOW.
