Wall

Integrity. He laughs.
Posterity. He Laughs.
Tomorrow. He does not laugh.
Intrinsically the fears and doubts of her dreams weighs on him. How can he question so much after so little. He ponders this while it falls; the trim.
The answer is no. The question has not even been asked yet. Pity. The remorseful soul is enlightened. He is crying but can not show. She trusts him right? The burning bridge between one side and the other does shelter the mindless minds of mortals that question everything they know.
Inconsiderate. She does not even respond. So many fitting drives are conquered and end without the hesitation of looking at his hopes as they coagulate and form this pond. Trust turns into pain. He is confident in her actions. He understands her strength he loves it, he challenges it, He strikes at it.
Regret. He cries.
Fortitude. He cries
Tomorrow. He does laugh.
Metaphorically the beautiful white sheet of accomplishment proves him strong. The barrier between right and wrong. Holds up nothing quite as short, nothing this long.
The question is why? The answer was given on that same white sheet. Happiness. A sick being that this accomplishment was granted toward the power of him so bitter sweet. He uses the manual canvas of his body to paid the picture of pain, like on a hallo night but no treat.
Redemption. He felt it like bliss. No inconsistency was shown comparison to a Walt Whitman on this surface. The words that would fill the canvass was his rage in which it did not miss. She did not even fight back o so simple. It was a clear vision that haunted him and undying and never ending perspective of life that would ensure he did not miss.