Something vast slips the Master
who created pieces of rhythm.
Bold in silence, as it took time to part it together.
Just a few messes to make a perfect conclusion soar;
Very neat in a minute inspiration of valor.
Note to the fact, that this creation might be,
lonesome in the beginning, the building of it must be.
"Tuff it out" was told to it's bottom test; through day and night,
breached together in lust and pleasure.
Both were loved and cared for,
as time rolled on by without a peep of anyone noticing.
The creation rhythm
Master beyond night
broached lust and strong the hand that was steady.
Making pleasure known; cared for, folded and unfolded,
backed by the ceiling's mirror and the ticking of the wall.
The desire was noticed in the hand which wrote it, and beautiful
the heart that caused it; who knew vast sounds
of pleasure on the page, the two left it on the paper with
ink created pleasure and loss.
In so much that time consumed
together as much may be used.
Relieved under forecasts of wanting and being amused,
when it brought details of woe and the abused.
They were together, this Master and creation.
Both tuned and entwined within their deeds.
The creation was known to stipulation,
without specification or verification.