Transfixed in pure supplication, here it is the top hat floating in the air. Magnetizing towards me, proof in the moment that’s never complete. A hindrance from cooperative hands, the priest hood baths in a treasure trove of depravity. The cards flame in the wind, skipping in the night, like two gleeful children playing outside. These things are shameful, steel wool attempts to keep the animals warm. during the coldest of winters. The kings court prepares to avenge them in their time of need, moving effortlessly towards the scene of the crime. Concealing it is no longer possible, all will be known soon and you’ll be brought down by the crown.
Contributor- Chris Ballenger