I whispered a wailing wish
To my lucky..
dinning plate
and tender dinner fish.
The hour was considerably late
As i Authentically, humbly asked it to
see fit to spare me
From audibly witnessing the
despairity
Of the self tortured soul downstairs from me and my
golden rarity:
My solid,
reputable knowledge
and third eye which
I utilize to reveal what other's desperately veil.
I behold to the the green-red soul opportunity not to befriend the muddy,
money-hungry troll.
Gave reason to not fall and be forced to reside in the toxic water, too.
I cried to her that i can sense the canibal troll's thirst, and how she feeds from demise.
How she skips no beat, to wolfishly, ruthlessly eat the skin and meat of those lacking a strong
moral physique.
My floating inner eye..
Is immune to the potency of her blinds.
I know what lies behind her curtains.
Her home isn't as chrome as it seems,
that's for ..
certain.
She's missing the necessary heart..
foundation of loyalty..
love!
I've long ago
warned
the worn, scorned soul to beware, take heed.
Never to doubt that Mrs. Cannibal Lector wouldn't backstab herself
Just to feed..
The face of her wooden shelf.
A space reserved for designer's grace.
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
I whispered a wailing wish
To my lucky..
dinning plate
and tender dinner fish.
The hour was considerably late
As i Authentically, humbly asked it to
see fit to spare me
From audibly witnessing the
despairity
Of the self tortured soul downstairs from me and my
golden rarity:
My solid,
reputable knowledge
and third eye which
I utilize to reveal what other's desperately veil.
I behold to the the green-red soul opportunity not to befriend the muddy,
money-hungry troll.
Gave reason to not fall and be forced to reside in the toxic water, too.
I cried to her that i can sense the canibal troll's thirst, and how she feeds from demise.
How she skips no beat, to wolfishly, ruthlessly eat the skin and meat of those lacking a strong
moral physique.
My floating inner eye..
Is immune to the potency of her blinds.
I know what lies behind her curtains.
Her home isn't as chrome as it seems,
that's for ..
certain.
She's missing the necessary heart..
foundation of loyalty..
love!
I've long ago
warned
the worn, scorned soul to beware, take heed.
Never to doubt that Mrs. Cannibal Lector wouldn't backstab herself
Just to feed..
The face of her wooden shelf.
A space reserved for designer's grace.
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