fleecing the beast

A cornerstone  on the bridge of dreams, has your name etched in gold, where the wheels split the beams, into splinters of hard rain, That fell on to cold streets, and washed all the down beats, into whirlpooling silk sheets, where the angels sleep soundly, to the cries of the lonely, and rise only after the noon bells are broken.

Ascending from deep within her cavernous lair,  patient Chaos, chameleon skinned and inky veiled,  wrapped storied tentacles round well ordered minds,  and bit with razored beak,  into what little moral was left,  among the officers of the First Order Maintenance Fleet.  How can one man be sure of anything in this world.  Is he foolish or fearless,  when not being prudent? It's pistols at dawn,  pistols at lunch,  pistols at tea, pistols wrapped up tight for stores....  oh the clues.   Coal and grass have each been given 5 minute slots on this years news.  Cakes are nice with pretzels.......  but that is...................... Far, far away from this place,  where sometimes nothing, ever, happens.  Ancient grumbles spills from rips and cracks,  in  backsides, of leather love seats.   Come on, cope with this now and you won't regret it later.  Bet your bottom dolla...