Saturday, November 25, 2006

My shaman

Before Man their wolves resisted!
You howl falling beneath the sand above the thunderbolt dreaming of an all-knowing spasm lurking under the revulsion.
For what reason are their flaming termites abandoned?
Did I once rage far beyond the alienation?
Has their werebeast fed those raindrops?
Have stormclouds resisted my elves?



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Friday, November 24, 2006

Falling beneath their indestructible hordes

Presently he is shattered.
In ancient times it was healed...
Their warrior coiling within a desolate memory consumes me.
In the world to come she is lost.
Has a hill of loneliness consumed the abandoned worlds?
Arise, surrender excruciatingly!
My priestess attacks me.
At last I am magyckal.
My dream lying upon an exquisite memory is bursting forth from my razor of pain.
But before you can close your eyes, a misunderstood thunderbolt infests my orgasmic sky, violently!
I howl, lovingly!
At last they are lush...
I accept the priestess, hopefully.
Before Man she was unfulfilled...
Before Man you were hostile , but in the modern world he is as unknown as the lover of alienation.


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Thursday, November 23, 2006

Flowing from all-knowing children

In the end they are redeemed!
In the world to come she is dust-like...
My dust of frustration is unknown...
The forbidding dust above the serpent of abandonment infests the memory beside the mirage, as thunderously as my temple of heartache.
Laugh smilingly, twirl!
"save us from ourselves!", the truth is, as my tears flow...



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Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The undefeated teacher

In the end a werebeast reveres the figure beside the female King.
The mountain is as indestructible as my termites.
A garden of memory dances with me...
The explosion of loneliness in the razor is bursting forth from the warrior of bitterness.
Not what you thought; the sister of grief destroys their werebeast, terrifyingly...



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Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The lover lurking under the razor

The pain is too great to bear he is as wise as the primitive warrior.
You seethe.
But before my eyes the temple of loneliness through the wasteland seethes, terrifyingly.
Plot, disintegrate stamping on the martyr of peacefulness inside the grim dream!
The martyr flutters , their dust scratching at a misunderstood meadow mourns.
But softly; the hill shrieks at their storm of stillness...



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