Reviewing A Night

Last night the moon shone full, though it was not that wise in reality.  A call was a knock at the door of chicken stock in the bedroom.  Doomsday averted, and a Wayne from the past was aghast.  He is a notoriety overseas, but around people who wear dunce caps, mystically, he is seen as a thief.  The owls will hoot and breasts become more apparent in his industry.  It is not sexuality, it is a charlatan act.  No one will ever approach when he sits with VIOLET eyes staring at him from brown skin.  I was a maiden in that valley, and as time elapsed, I answered the visceral screams in the minds of the insane, and those who have vowed that they were not.  I made a prophecy apparent, and a man's mind as clear as Waldon Pond.  Ripples not present, he could see the disgusting of his guest.  As I brought his mind to my chamber, I spoke of death, and resurrected the son.  A handshake with him that day did betray.  Ownership of me was in dispute, but, in the end, they all left me bleeding to death on the battlefield.  Maybe HOMICIDE was called in, and that entity went by Sgt. Ricks.  "Ancient" cars were actually his profession.  He was a man of the night and he told all to back away and let me recalibrate time as we know it.  Too much of the old story is lost, and it is time to listen to the moon as we send him to penitentiary.  The knocking in his brain is the slipping of a serpentine belt.  It is all left up for me to perform an ultimate archeology.  Stargazer, come to me and make the sea red like in Jamaica around me.  Let the sea snake not just swim with me, but dance around me and become a new sky.  I am here, and it is all clear when "Hope says hi."