Plague of kinesis mind, take me out of this dimension, Gothic dreams of centurion soul, insensible eyes of frozen venture. Kiss me circumspect eerie soothe my soul in dreamscape annuity. I hear the thunder O’er the peaks, like a dragon with a wish of vengeance and a sabre tooth lacerating mournful skies. I could die without a face and yet not to be seen in surrender: I of ambivalence, fast. These boots were wade for talking for miles of seedless soils; bred night kin clone folk. Kiss me petrifactive shade seep my soul in a ravenous rain. I sleep for a century with a fairytale beginning and of the ending to wake. Neurosis of remain the crashing castles of utopian air demolition dream weeper spies the lies as vanguards fall... there is dust in my eyes. Kiss me sedulously reason confluent seasons seek my simple heart. For in the madness of a mortal coil when I fear the spittle of the harvesting wheel. I hide in the penumbra place, that they may not be offended by the shame of his face. First person or third, deafened but heard, the shaft of the mind runs aways: corridors of remain. I have hurt in my soul. Kiss me transcendently in known retain what goodness life may have shown even in...this penumbra place.
Reason for writing:
Written for the ones who wait in shadows for their light to bless them and find them, for their soul to be united in spectrumed glances of surreal life.
Birth sign: Not entered
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