Bumpy Skin

A precious horse nows the feel
when its mane has fallen from grace,
but craves the oats of compassion,
           as well as I .

   A wicked spell,
 "O sacred honey wash my sins
I wish my spirit to not smell like a faun".
     Grimms take that second
     The advantage so pure as if it was a timeless baby

A cane shouts from the wind,
Grimms charr the fields now
 the spell keeps lifting and the sweet grass
  turns to dust, my skin of a goose,
   ' the insecurity is poison, woman. Realize
                the real', says Conscience. And i do.
               Flakes rebel criss-cross
               and run away to the ghosts of holly
                  " You can sprain my world, Dear Reaper,
                    but you will never, cripple my will"
I now see the picture, I can feel the sky from here.
  truth confesses to only the Only, " I want to
      break through your skin"/
Go ahead 'Cuz there's no storm like me.