Hark ,the tribal angels sting
Violent night.Too much afright.
Oh,walled town of death and mayhem.
We three rings of prurience stir.
While shepherds hatched their plots by night.
The jolly and their rivals.
The Lord is my leopard.
Lord,for tomorrow and its reads,I do not prey.
Love on remand here.
Unconvivial love for all.
Unconditionally tense always.
[God’s will is a metaphor.He has no lawyer.The truth tomorrow only in the Daily Wail.]
How my heart sings 