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Orakhal Aug 2020
I will wash away memory as I riddle rush and ruse the nature of my deep deluge turning on its rocky bedlam , I will unmask the shallow critters crib neath the nesting brook and refuge, scored to the ravens beak on the walls of ancient tides, I will whip forth the froth of life's wave into a frenzy and dance upon the rolling birth of heave, thrashing  the gentle still mind to the fragile oceans rip, neath the throttled blue belly of abyss I will roar, as the water fells its thunder thru the crack of suns ray gushing its burst thru the thirst of clay neath the vein of day

— The End —