A TAILSTORY

The water passed the mouth of the fishes were never meant for the family of gillette lifes.
The defeacete times opened the thigh of the anus to pass. 
The splitter of the heaven saliva on the sandy soil to mark on the allocated parts of yours.
The ages spoke fastest than the days in counting, the grey hairs and wrickled cheesed chins.
The rags taced to the bin would kissed on naked fire, that warned the masquerade out of the forge.
The clocks ticked the times to the events, the jingling noted by the people to aware a destiny. The builders were just on the orders of the might God, if they weren't, all are waste, in the waste of time on struggles.
The goods are the tormenting of the past and the pains of the love, as crude ore fire to duct to gold.
The possession could never kill the wisers but it may never be archieved in time, call a sage a slogan to be end a day.
The beauty of a life is the fairness of the life spans, never how longs but how fairs.
It is never a colourful feathers meant a carmolion features, at a time the beautiful flowers will fall of to the fruits.
The cunning of camflaging is provided in the next nature, in the days and nights times. It is a doom at nights while the days booming in eyes lens.
There is a progressive programming in all creations, good or bad, it is metamorphic.
The tales of the monkeys tails
Likewise the toads said that we should forget and forgo about a tailstory.
You defeaceted you were never cleaned, how many people would you share this story with. It must be a clothed fart for a lonely thought. 
It seems the water is more than flour the meals had distorted.

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