We've said to be set in stone. We've been left with corruption. We see with what Earth's dirt has become of one withered fetus at a time. We've learned the worth of birth and radiants, through life and death is not valued at such fake pain. We've satisfied the enigma with more than chaos beyond belief, in a single spot, what is the fractal. We've concluded existence with doors opened through closed minds. We hear simplicities out volcanoes echo, the vomit of our sunken melted unknown past. We taste our heroes' dirt through the air we inhale, what they've said keeps us red, inside, where we're thrived. We're given one ocean each, to swim harshly, or drown delicately (submarines are lucky). We smell the chocolates of sex and desire. As products we're sold, and slaves are we to each other! We've dehumanized sensitivity eruptions, where mutants of diversity collapse their brand-name- emotions and their pre-reflex-actions. We've built larger ships to revenge past mistakes, guilty until proven innocent and so. We feel the grains of unfinished tables deep within out tongues and finger tips, in lust bleeding in unison, never to correct a problem with raspberry crushed velvet. We've created creation. We are the creators. And with creators the creator's creation must fall. Much to the form of contamination, and much to the form of liberations.Birth sign: Sagittarius
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