Beaten Brazen you

Your words are like ice cubes,

Rooting every franchise of thoughts in me,

Genuinely you blabber your ice of principles 

Slapping my head to tail of mine,

You blame the roots of mine

Washing every soil of it,

But 

Dear did I ever speak to clash your thoughts on mine?

I honour every water of yours on my way,

Etiquette every glasses, you say,

Drink every piece of drops, you rays

Now,

You slam me that I am on another door

Chiming another bell of thoughts?

You upsurge your cubes of words in me

Did you ever notice,

In your glass, your cubes, your water,

Your theory of discipline 

Was there lies my existence ever?

Was my sediments lies on yours ever?