There are astrological signs which depict the temperature of climactic socialisation.
Are you familiar with the experience of envy?
The early settlers were able to till the land with rhythm, whilst the establishment raised superstitious calamities which were compatible with the presumed evil of harlotry.
Let us rise at this undetermined time of anticipation where maternal bonds are held in question.
Rabbits have always roamed fields in the Herefordshire countryside, whilst post-war community finds affiliation in both prohibition and licentiousness.
I love your scent, as it reminds me of ancient castles.
So, let us burrow into a warren of denial and produce offspring which dissociates from contemporary expectations.
As I appreciate the ages of wisdom, I have questions about our orientation, as it lingers on this eternal horizon of predictable obscurity.

The Spirit of Winter carefully tiptoes her way along the continuum of forgotten Gaelic intensities, whilst mischievous laughter resounds throughout the geographical conveniences of complacency.
How gorgeous is the anatomy of madness, as she perches on gorgon ledges of sophisticated depravity.
I do not even hail from the land of the Gauls.
Yet, ghastly and seductive are those flittering silhouettes of fortitude and perceived harlotry, as they penetrate damp walls of ancient entertainments with multiple partners.
Harken to my lament and do not banish my soul into eternal blackness, as we conjure the sword and kiss with fivefold and unconventional intensities beyond the circles of the forest.
You are now given permission to ring the bell sevenfold, Oh master, where scientific inscriptions are splayed with the blatancy of wanton chastity.
I was born by the river that is never the same whenever it is stepped into with more than one dribbling expectation.

Latent are those transgressions which are gripped in the jaws of an icy-cold vendetta.
In the afterglow of a dusky duet, let us engage with those beings of undetected visibility.
As we balance upon this bright pasture of oblivion, let us detect the sophisticated scent of antiquity amidst a clockwork tragedy.
Many souls are tightly squeezed into a latex circuitry of ambivalence.
We are almost home.

Solace is to be found amidst a cathartic tornado of contemporary embellishment, whilst heaven exists beyond tactile and psychological fiction.
Although obscurity joins hands in affiliation with a questionable character, I fear the Greeks whenever they bear gifts in the form of a wooden horse.
Therefore, write your grimoire and let us waltz into the misty realms of ceremonial magick.

Signals are indicative of current warnings, just like a beacon of light which penetrates the abyss of parliamentary speeches which are designed to evoke contemptuous laughter.
Such animated gestures are not dissimilar to crumbled biscuits which are catapulted before throngs of anticipatory populations.
However, there are varying degrees of rectitude, where the graded fraternity assume grandiosity as they lodge in the fabric of society with loyal deception.
Lurking in the esoteric shadows with the adorned regalia of blatancy and defamed characters - our captors are hidden in plain sight with political sanction.
Gestures are a form of non-verbal communication, where specific messages are planted in anthropological soils with intended purpose.

Mockery forcefully tiptoes her way beyond the barricades of fiction, and confronts populated dunes where ambiguous legs protrude.
Are you a prisoner in this proclaimed age of democracy?
The branches of the trees are still, as we avoid the precipice of calamity in the name of upright citizenship.
Therefore, walk with me along the crumbling castle walls and you will learn that there is a familial bond which lies beyond vain constructs of presumed superior architecture.
I know that it is an altered state of consciousness, so it is important to share your perspective because it is a prominent feature.
It is the memories of the living who are tortured by unspeakable possibilities.
Tickle me pink with choreography.

How enigmatic are your darkest desires, as they pulsate in the radiance of a resilient carbon-copy?
Our society is egomaniacal in its justification of sinister motives, where the majority simply absorb the current pulse and blend into a confused state of delicious tragedy.
Loyalty can be likened to a misplaced trust, where solitaire transcends the cosmological Gatekeeper. Therefore, let us make haste! No time to wait! We’re off to the Sabbat, so don’t be late.
It is almost time to eat cakes and to drink ale, whilst we play ceremonial games during this synthesis of co-existing opposites. Can we meet on the astral plane?
As the gates between the worlds are open at this time of the year, we call upon our ancestors to pass through and join us.