British Aristocrisy

The flowers of spring call be to a graveyard down the lane. The insane within the realm of death become encapsulated in a newly departed near to me. Time of year is not necessarily the perfect spiral as the tornadoes exclaim their pain to all community. Higher and mightier are the events we cannot see, and that destroy infinity, actually, instantly. The rocks that form cliffs have believed that they always had a place to be. A recking ball can take you out too. I turn my gaze and survive when I should not. IMPALING justice is about to be, but not for me. I keep my voice down, but can all of you? Whispers of deceit are infinity in my vicinity. You all say over and over that I am nothing and I have no degree. Well, I have memory of all of it. You do too, and you have nothing, STALKER MAN. You will never be free, because you have done it right in front of me for the last time. You all sully the places I can be. I must STAND AND DELIVER every day.