Bottle of wheat.

A whole bottle of wheat wasted prowling on the 

Quartermast your attempts to forget the story 

told was coiled amongst assam west.

Snake atop cyan tree swan gold taps in gods crumbling house 

Programmed and wired for cards of animated lovers 

stone countless carved names of original gin sling.

Heart felt swords  

The sort of place if you drink water from here 

And If you forget that smell you may have lost 

Your senses.