Bubbled inside a raindrop as the pressure descends to a whirl that needs us, plus inertia...pop, here lies the jungle inside the main cause measured by Rand in a World that breeds lumps, must be Cancer. Caught up in thoughts of no authority, what else can one do in this dispiriting zeitgeist? As I plot these dots of hope analogy, maybe there's still a chance in these persisting guidelines. Calls of Monks chanting on bright skulls and we seem eager to hear the voice of God, which leaves a lot to be desired like mastering the bright stars in the deep Ether, just to bear this void of course. New waves come and go disguised in these ageing times Apocalypse, the past shouting names of old sinners coming back to life with disgust, like ***-changing minds...I'm appalled by this. Modern demigods blinding clairvoyance with binding flamboyance, and it's hard to sense a touch of innocence there. If it's not the Flaming Sun, then why is it global tolerance for my people to perspire despair in such abundance here??
Dark Clouds cover the mission of Churches along with the diluted message, while Half-Brothers fail to spread their scriptures for searches to diffuse these sketches...