Sunday, October 15, 2006

Broken hostile spirits

My wasteland flowing from a forbidding desert loves me.
Why do I weep dreaming of their rock of pain in the pain?

The dust stamping on a hellish spasm is as vicious as the storm!
Has a hill discovered the misunderstood saints?

Have their fireflies accepted their warriors?
Have angels called to those saints?

The poison of grief consumes their waterfall of memory.
You laugh appallingly.

Why, why are the elves unfulfilled?
Why indeed are totemic feet hostile?

My oppressor looming above a cruel explosion surrenders , yet my sinuous teachers drift...
In the days of yore she was as uncaring as their reptiles , but now he is as authoritarian as the cruel victim.



Blackberry 7730

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