Wounds and whistles bend the counter argument, they blare the sound waving their palms in pleasing of trees that bind the traps of aberrations. You blend into a majestor of frothing matters that blend themselves together inside. Fishing out the lures, they squirm outside the seashore in lofting. We pursue these withering Mavericks, clashing with the titans of an olden period. These conflicts become detrimental, brushing with death of another mannerism. Ghosts of a tribal carlift, they hastened the square pegs foregrounds fell in deep with the enemy. The freedom is within grasp, as if a wind blew in time for you to grab hold of these statures. One found solace, the other searched for it in the infinite wisdom without luck to guide them.
You wrote your markings on my head, in which comes from your soulistic tendencies. Scatterbrained, we embark on this journey together forever. Your blissful insurgence, outing in the lights cannot bring out my madness. You purge my soul of the filthy wasteful secretions on my skin. My smoke screen fights to keep things from you, its natural defenses lock up my moods away with a key. You peel away still, your fingers press against the wooden barrier. This is a mask folded inward, you cannot make your way through without a sacrifice. This blood split from your gnawed off curtains, it seeps through the tempered holes. I bellow in your belittled stature, for in the winds of time you come close but its never enough.
They press into you, foolish lips press against the cardboard cutout. A dried out masonry, found buried in the sand lifeless in folding. These numbers appear in your minds eye, revealing measurements of time and continuations. You brought a machine to be punished for its crimes. Clocks have hand written sentiments, but do not have comprehension of voyeurism. Platelets and Cinderblocks, jab into each others templates. Those color coordinators, they love a structurized phantasm. They pursue your distance flourishes, founding of a mindful candor. You bled for your followers, they wreaked of treachery in these chairs. One found a bridge to other worlds, bound to embark on journey’s you would only find in story books.
Why would I choose to stay grounded, when there’s an entire Universe for my own pleasure. I learned you can’t be complacent, if you keep moving toward a broadened mixture of solutions. Why is a problem, why am I stuck inside this boxed formulation, I always believed that I was destined for bigger things. But my mind couldn’t see past my own ego, that was the issue I faced in line with boastful measures. I punished myself, for reasons I’ll never be able to comprehend. I was more than this box, I stare at it in shock that I have escaped its grapple on me. Anything is possible, if you’d just know that you are so much more than your own limits. We do this to ourselves, and we wish for it to be over in pure agony of regret. I’d focus on yours, but I’m way too invested on getting what I know is mine.
Shivers insightly, in the moon lit forgery insulated in scrimmages. Fondly insinuating the broken shilvery once found in a whisper and cleanly outdated. These showers pour onto you, you can feel the cold wet backlash in the shoreline. The moister hits the greenery, as it screams to be filled for it is gluttenas. It gags, suffering and frothing at the mouth in a purely isolated and secret that never was told. We’ve all come so far to stop now, we are swines in our own guilty pleasures. We all fell foolish, in a damming place full of unwanted inquires and chain letters. You write these words in someone else’s blood, smeared with the innocence of the ones that basked in holy anguish.
A brothers love unspoken, with an unwithering eye for unblemished shinery. Those black fortunes harkened in the imagination and foolery. Eyes as pale as cold glassy sharpened daggers, cutting at the skin piercing the outright cold snow. Your bleak glare, it was over shadowed by the morning stars in final stages of collapsing. It fell on top of you, gleefully massaging those eyes with painted blazes of fire and obsession. You dare not ask for the clothes off their backs, compulsory in a quake in the landscape. You were lifted as high as the rungs would take you, in elevation you are equipped for the decent upon your enemies. You struggle to push forward, exhaustion begins to set in. You bleed from the eyes, feeling compassed with your passion to find truth.
She floats in the afterbirth of occasion, massively shot outside of the founded mass of wanting a burnt lesion. You watch her from afar, she ignores your advances not because of her indifference. But because there isn’t a fondness, a gifted and dark mantera and forward they move in seclusion. Their light footed and lost, in a universe filled with floods of belligerent fires. They burn as they draw stiletto’s to the ground, painting a monstrosity in elusive defiance. You want to intertwine, you want to interact but something keeps you guessing. She looks the the prizm, shaping the dialect as they see fit. These words have no meaning, they begin to find out what all of this is for. Will you struggle with her, or press against the suppression. Resistance is pointless, you will bleed no matter the resolution.