Countless the fount rhymes abundantly well, swell
heavily, plentifully abounding, impelled
by the rouse of a battle inside of myself.
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3 comments:
So i sacrificed a bit of clarity for the the art of the writing.
Countless are the fount of rhymes that abundantly gather together, and gaining weight (meaning), now all of them entirely full, and then urged out by the rousing battle inside of myself. (i think the end is clear enough).
Whoever reads poetry and knows what is going on anyways? This is just a part of a poem but it can stand fine by itself.
:)
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