Hey,
can you feel it?
In your bloods...
The blazes
now arising,
stirring up the pot
and grasping from below.
One darkened statue
rushes, galloping home,
after many attempts
to figure out War.
Won't you try to set yourself?
Free as you can.
I see myself
escaping through the stupidest
hidden corners
of the mirror.
Wall,
after wall,
and well cloistered up,
I find my shadow, tired,
after catching up your stones,
with the frontal teeth
until they've breached.
And fling then,
them chances to throw...
Gather all your pocket curses
and behold,
upon the sunset:
A new kind of
Secular Love...
Maybe this one, too,
is made to
polish off
the corners of a
perfect
Opal Globe.
And...
Please continue to grow,
while It growls.
But, can you feel it, though…?
As they fall,
now,
they uphold
their unwanted
coronoids.
As we flex
the muscle of
The Strangest Soul.
A tear does tell apart,
the riches from the glow.
It's legitimately
all but a pointless show...
Nonetheless,
can you teach me, as well?
To serenade perfectly,
to such lonely
marionettes.
''But, where are the puppeteers...?''
I scream to myself
as I'm changing up
the angles,
and the formats,
so the brightest tungsten won't
erase my eyelids
off
the lovely
borders
of my skull.
There's always another
territory scramble
over who can take the most
flesh from the pit of
past tainted choices
of formerly.
Knowings from afar...
And apart...
They taught me
how to hug
the Roses without
leaving their husks behind,
and burning out
the spines
as I go.
As they're hearts.
That shan't break
so easily...
''We shall see.''
Your true colours
once they've been taken out
by the shimmering gleams...
Your veins...
spouting a spontaneous
fountain of
crimson
course.
The Rusted Raven
have polished off its beak.
With golden carcasses
to throb.
The stench of success
only seems
interested
in hunting down
The Stars
as foreign prey.
Alas,
the wings shall
take their glorious flight.
And fight.
As a dare to the Heavens themselves...
Let the trumpets roar.
And the branches die.
Let Time pass through you.
Let Life devour you whole.
You're going to let go
of banal concepts
as well as
forbidden lore.
'' And, Lord.
Forgive me.
For I have chosen
a different path.
Allow me
to sculpt your mistakes...
So you can turn the other cheek.
Allow me to show you
your rend.
So you can choose to stay the same.
Dear Begetter,
please get better.
I'm getting too tired
to loosen up
Your Scowl. ''
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