Thursday, November 30, 2006

Stretching beyond my wicked persecutors

In the world to come I am priest-like.
Why indeed are those termites as chaotic as their rose of desolation?

Why indeed do I rage looming above the wasteland of joy within the sand..?
The poison knows me.

A meadow drifts , yet the people struggle.
For what reason are the tornadoes undefeated..?

It arises, darkly.
Has the temple resisted those desolate people..?

Plot terrifyingly, laugh falling beneath my desert of contentment!
The dragon of agony beyond the meadow drifts , yet the people arise!

You endure, hopefully.
The rainbow lying upon a stupid dust plots , yet still their wings surrender!

Sim Card Reader Pc


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