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"barbarity" poems
tell me what words are there to articulate this savage parade not here, not in all the Lebanons whose crystal castles sparkle like broken glass on the dark horizons at the jagged edges of the world from which cultured minds have receded and all humanity has been relinquished to the barbarity of the frenzied flavours of fools who will speak for this wild parade without impediment to mythical protagonists tell me where are the energised arguments against sophisticated yet false laments where testament is torn through weeping cedar trees producing the unpredictable accidental quality that memorialises phantom caresses that have neither been invented nor encouraged the hallow that inaugurates the distinctive features of destructive energies that are both exuberant and hard to comprehend this parade where there is a savage sensibility capable of apprehending contradictory ethical imperatives that vouch for a mocking stream of tragic political consequence displayed vividly in the inextricability of civil order and political violence that defies exclusive claim by casting itself as freedom warrior in disguise as militaristic humanism and burns the temple tree and where human identity becomes an elusive possession owned by a few who in the inevitability of ignorance refuse to recognise their tragic error and the world does not mount a strenuous protest at this headlong dash for Ephesus where antagonistic language and neutral expression of thought converge and here the value of valulessness repudiates, even in a single poetic moment
0
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Syria
tell me what words are there to articulate this savage parade not here, not in all the Lebanons whose crystal castles sparkle like broken glass on the dark horizons at the jagged edges of the world from which cultured minds have receded and all humanity has been relinquished to the barbarity of the frenzied flavours of fools who will speak for this wild parade without impediment to mythical protagonists tell me where are the energised arguments against sophisticated yet false laments where testament is torn through weeping cedar trees producing the unpredictable accidental quality that memorialises phantom caresses that have neither been invented nor encouraged the hallow that inaugurates the distinctive features of destructive energies that are both exuberant and hard to comprehend this parade where there is a savage sensibility capable of apprehending contradictory ethical imperatives that vouch for a mocking stream of tragic political consequence displayed vividly in the inextricability of civil order and political violence that defies exclusive claim by casting itself as freedom warrior in disguise as militaristic humanism and burns the temple tree and where human identity becomes an elusive possession owned by a few who in the inevitability of ignorance refuse to recognise their tragic error and the world does not mount a strenuous protest at this headlong dash for Ephesus where antagonistic language and neutral expression of thought converge and here the value of valulessness repudiates, even in a single poetic moment
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47
Broken box Society’s cold shoulder Children grow older People get colder Humans become more animalistic Incarcerated ******** Humans don’t deserve this Barbarity Our city Needs clarity Eyes upwards in isolation Nocturnal Echo location With no manifestation of god But the sun feels so good Freedom forgotten Lost to new conditioning A tumor that gains a stronger claim To an inmate’s brain We are not improving our world We are just pharmacist repositioning The world’s pain
0
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Prison
From freedom and serenity - forced back, Within a heavy frame, I twist and turn. Surrounded by darkness - sunlight lacks Through peaceful ears, an alarm clock burns. Feeling like someone once deceased, I ****** myself from my tranquil sleep... Stumbling to the kitchen, eyes half open, I prepare my meal in a weary daze. I will not dread today - I'm hoping, As I race through traffic in my malaise. Drinking in my last few moments, I do what I must, but never condone it... My interior seething from stress filled meetings, These rules defeating - my lifeblood fleeting, A blunt insanity from this calamity, Through censored profanity, I scream "barbarity!" Beneath the boots of automatic overlords, We're trapped together - anxious and bored... Our heads hang, our eyes bleed Their talking styles belie their greed. Our mouths move - connection we seek, But we find our language strange and oblique. Back home, on my couch, lethargic and pale, Hypnotized by TV, my dreams turning stale… A once free spirit, now a mindless drone - My sense of identity is what they dethrone. I assure myself, my soul will endure, Friday at five, I’m told is the cure. But, revolution’s muscle beats in my chest! So, a simple existence, I imagine, my best. This is my strife - I hate this way of life! Words can’t explain the disdain in my veins. So, I have no choice, but to use my voice, To tell you all to your face, there’s no time to waste! Everyday, I pickup my pen and face the end - To light the fire, that from ashes, we’ll ascend...
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:58 PM UTC
A S C E N D
From freedom and serenity - forced back, Within a heavy frame, I twist and turn. Surrounded by darkness - sunlight lacks Through peaceful ears, an alarm clock burns. Feeling like someone once deceased, I ****** myself from my tranquil sleep... Stumbling to the kitchen, eyes half open, I prepare my meal in a weary daze. I will not dread today - I'm hoping, As I race through traffic in my malaise. Drinking in my last few moments, I do what I must, but never condone it... My interior seething from stress filled meetings, These rules defeating - my lifeblood fleeting, A blunt insanity from this calamity, Through censored profanity, I scream "barbarity!" Beneath the boots of automatic overlords, We're trapped together - anxious and bored... Our heads hang, our eyes bleed Their talking styles belie their greed. Our mouths move - connection we seek, But we find our language strange and oblique. Back home, on my couch, lethargic and pale, Hypnotized by TV, my dreams turning stale… A once free spirit, now a mindless drone - My sense of identity is what they dethrone. I assure myself, my soul will endure, Friday at five, I’m told is the cure. But, revolution’s muscle beats in my chest! So, a simple existence, I imagine, my best. This is my strife - I hate this way of life! Words can’t explain the disdain in my veins. So, I have no choice, but to use my voice, To tell you all to your face, there’s no time to waste! Everyday, I pickup my pen and face the end - To light the fire, that from ashes, we’ll ascend...
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36
The skyline was beautiful on fire All twisted metal reaching upwards The water wars The great migrations The barbarity of a thousand roving clans The infertility And the old used as meat Had made love a distant memory to those remaining But tumbling over scraps Navigating through shards Gnawing at withered roots Lapping at acrid streams We went on All we had done was hope better
0
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Untitled
Timelike and the decaying bodies piled high cease to amuse the vultures now Single shots give the rebels confidence They attack in force Heavy machine gun fire from the west toss bodies into the air like ragdolls Textbook Vultures  tearing at eyes of the dead and dying Bullets to precious for mercy The night brings natures other cleaners Muffled screams heighten the reactions as night vision survey death in technicolor The ponderous wait continues Stroking metal like some *** provoking act Followed only by counting lives little savers, bullets of love The vultures dance impatiently The stroking intensifies Hairs stand ***** as movement waves majestically towards its final objective A sudden calm unfolds Nature watches in awe as love is unleashed in her garden for the final time The call to bayonets now, takes man down to his lowest form of savagery   Eyes now meet, screaming death the ferocious last act of  men past the point of madness Blood flows as metal slice through skin and bone, swaying death the final frenzy as screams die the days end Men cry as they survey the last atrocity of human barbarity Battle ended, vultures marvel feasting on the final meal Battle hardened men massacre memories  leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash They would never return.
0
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
The Vultures Dance.
How ironic to not seek the tools yet drool on them To see the instruments and break down like a phlegm How naïve of us to use the gym as an excuse To prolong it, as if it were drug use Some call it dopamine others call it clarity Most see an opening to showcase their barbarity Called less of a man to those "better off" Called less of a woman to those showing pictures with their sweater off Lust driving companies to show children compromised We see these plaything while revenue boosts the enterprise Anime, video games, novels and Tv Nothing seems too extreme for these mediums Beheading, shredding, **** and made "Dream-like" Topics have been explored beyond their tedium **** is accessible and Ai makes your dream man Merge yourself with your idol beyond the imagination of a regular Stan Be praised for wearing Japanese *********** and condoning said behavior Treat somebodies feet pics like your very own savior The beast wins not with wit, but with a pattern To catch us in the act frozen still like Saturn Internet connections show us the milky way And your hands remain adamant, your mind filthy The beasts doesn't care of November, nor valentines or about your crush It waits to clamp you, and turn you into dust Too ashamed to seek humanity, too far gone to find morality Repeated until insanity, Your mouth blurting profanities And yet we blame the beast when our relationships end or we cant break a ***** habit Then try to pray to catch up to the Sabbath Why Lie to the beast and to ourselves? To those who use their hands or run to cheap hotels Is *********** more worthwhile than redemption? The beast is with me as I type this, judging my every move It laughs, uses slurs and denying my attempts to improve It lives in you, no matter how content you are with your sexuality And does its all to destroy your Mentality
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Nov 13, 2023
Nov 13, 2023 at 8:41 AM UTC
The beast that controls my lust
How ironic to not seek the tools yet drool on them To see the instruments and break down like a phlegm How naïve of us to use the gym as an excuse To prolong it, as if it were drug use Some call it dopamine others call it clarity Most see an opening to showcase their barbarity Called less of a man to those "better off" Called less of a woman to those showing pictures with their sweater off Lust driving companies to show children compromised We see these plaything while revenue boosts the enterprise Anime, video games, novels and Tv Nothing seems too extreme for these mediums Beheading, shredding, **** and made "Dream-like" Topics have been explored beyond their tedium **** is accessible and Ai makes your dream man Merge yourself with your idol beyond the imagination of a regular Stan Be praised for wearing Japanese *********** and condoning said behavior Treat somebodies feet pics like your very own savior The beast wins not with wit, but with a pattern To catch us in the act frozen still like Saturn Internet connections show us the milky way And your hands remain adamant, your mind filthy The beasts doesn't care of November, nor valentines or about your crush It waits to clamp you, and turn you into dust Too ashamed to seek humanity, too far gone to find morality Repeated until insanity, Your mouth blurting profanities And yet we blame the beast when our relationships end or we cant break a ***** habit Then try to pray to catch up to the Sabbath Why Lie to the beast and to ourselves? To those who use their hands or run to cheap hotels Is *********** more worthwhile than redemption? The beast is with me as I type this, judging my every move It laughs, uses slurs and denying my attempts to improve It lives in you, no matter how content you are with your sexuality And does its all to destroy your Mentality
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35
I cut a strange shadow As if lit by candles Deep in the dark corner Where she sits me Coughing offense Three minute I must repent Coughing violently As if to cleanse some sin Because she does not Believe my phlegm Little boy liar Or at least she assumes As she locks me in my room Beneath a cold quiet moon Do not come out So I **** on the carpet Puke green thing Will be smelling Very unclean I’m always thirsty I’m always lonely Staring at the kids playing While I am daydreaming Of finding a home to be free in I cannot say which I preferred The brash beatings Accompanied by my screaming That soothed her seething rages Almost completely At least for that day Or the weeks and months Locked away Despairing To swallow once I swallowed twice I jumped at a moments notice One tap caused twitches One loud yell Caused more flinching Someone once told me They knew about the barbarity Not exactly in those words But years down the line I wonder if at any time They felt bad for letting me Live like that
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
My Shadow
I pledge allegiance to the flag a symbol which we sought For which it stand the high ideals that we all forgot One nation superior to all who stand opposed Because they do not see, feel, or know what we know under god just in case you were calm we have to remind you That there is a great and powerful being that controls, oppresses, and binds you Indivisible with justice and liberty for all who can afford it But if you are not just like us you might as well ignore it So here is your allegiance without the mystery The subtle undertones that you might be able to see Welcome to a symbol which we can unite behind And ignore that acts of barbarity that would normally trouble our mind
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Allegiance
365Nectar #49 Clean Out Your Basement Mon. November 11, 2013 10:25 P.M. Half-crazed like a naked savage... stillness speaks clamoring for attention in startling fresh expression conjuring false memories of purity... Cheering unsuccessful progress in an attempt to preserve non-existent dominance... Cosigned on civilized barbarity at an interest rate of 36% compounded annually... The survival of a naked castaway Perfectly unbalanced symmetry, that's slightly consistent, in a feeble attempt to compensate for weak genetic inheritance Bathing **** in a ****** religion of bewildering complexity... Relatively fluent in ungoverned profanities... intentional involvement in ******** and lies Aggressive mental exploits inflate illusion disabling direction... Gullible digestion of prescribed placebo claiming cure of a Curiosity Coma... STOP hoarding evidence of stupidity... 911 radical refinement... ...CLEAN OUT YOUR BASEMENT.
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
Clean Out Your Basement
That which is lifeless, May hide behind a shade of certainty Thus the tiger masks its barbarity With beauty on its body.
0
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Cheesy
At this age he chews his steak with a knife, Safely outside his body the little crescents come down, These many red smiles that he holds in his hand. He likes her cooking overtly sanguine now. This added barbarity to make up for his caution as he shows off to the crows on the fence. Meanwhile she mutters like cautious clapping; Voice muffled by her Cupid’s bow, turned down with age and she only speaks little irritating truths. French tips awkwardly grip a tin she washes out. She drops it often with the weight of tomato-ed water and she winces at every wince he makes. Now the pages of their days are reflections of the cover. To all those crows at the window who notice her nails and his appetite as much as they notice each other. Dreaming of the past is for the old and the second choices but what if they each got that one that got away. (Return to top)
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 7:36 AM UTC
The Loop Trap
I don’t encourage the courage it takes to blow up a building Or respect those who expect blind obedience The factories that distill human suffering for profit The gasses and poisons that are toxic The philosophies and doctrines that make humans compliant To higher authorities without reason and logic People becoming socially caustic When compassion is traded for competition And the fit don’t survive cause the trick is This sickness is a symptom of human corruption Greed infecting and spreading hatred and resentment Neighbors aren't neighbors but gladiators in the pursuit of success Better cars, better houses, better jobs, better spouses Denied contentment’s peaceful breath Tricked into thinking we get more than this width and breadth So it’s okay to play at barbarity to dress up the bombs with flags and prosperity And our masters have the right to decide who we should and should not fight After all even though we were deluded we colluded with our own oppressors While they trade secrets with our supposed enemies Sell weapons to allies turn allies to adversaries And even though we think we chose this We the people did not accept this sort of justices We did not vote on this democracy, we the ill-informed masses Illiterate in the true art of classes and rich distinctions Of those who seek their own advancement not our improvement Corporate sociopath with little empathy for the welfare of others Smother our sister and brothers under the cover of complacency And what really bothers me is that I am just as much to blame I coat our pain in pretty words thinking pettily that I am helping But in the end I am only helping myself feel better for doing **** near nothing
0
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
The Enslaved
I don’t encourage the courage it takes to blow up a building Or respect those who expect blind obedience The factories that distill human suffering for profit The gasses and poisons that are toxic The philosophies and doctrines that make humans compliant To higher authorities without reason and logic People becoming socially caustic When compassion is traded for competition And the fit don’t survive cause the trick is This sickness is a symptom of human corruption Greed infecting and spreading hatred and resentment Neighbors aren't neighbors but gladiators in the pursuit of success Better cars, better houses, better jobs, better spouses Denied contentment’s peaceful breath Tricked into thinking we get more than this width and breadth So it’s okay to play at barbarity to dress up the bombs with flags and prosperity And our masters have the right to decide who we should and should not fight After all even though we were deluded we colluded with our own oppressors While they trade secrets with our supposed enemies Sell weapons to allies turn allies to adversaries And even though we think we chose this We the people did not accept this sort of justices We did not vote on this democracy, we the ill-informed masses Illiterate in the true art of classes and rich distinctions Of those who seek their own advancement not our improvement Corporate sociopath with little empathy for the welfare of others Smother our sister and brothers under the cover of complacency And what really bothers me is that I am just as much to blame I coat our pain in pretty words thinking pettily that I am helping But in the end I am only helping myself feel better for doing **** near nothing
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30
A desert empty, hard, and mute some implied and maligning agent mere dust, soft clay, of eroding tides unsettling account, no balance to come in the pall of mistakes past who are you to ignore the obvious effects of your actions? and ask the world to bend to your ignorance of other ends more exists without than is known within or spoken invisible but no less real, though forgotten our wills have mass an epidemic of inattention content with meaningless negligence on a curved path, tethered and constrained wrought between collisions and propelled to escape but man himself is a force of nature which counters all others and conquers so as to undo itself in its wake, risk values all reward so-called providence designs all consequence the game plays itself so it goes, and so it went so it goes, and so it will, at the end so it goes, and so it will, so it went, at the end, as it always would the measure of man isn’t that which he hazards no hope in abandoning to shaping molding chance this alien land holds scars of man’s conversion does it manifest our victory, our destiny, or our barbarity?
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Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 4:08 AM UTC
That's That, Matress Man
*I hoped even if it wasn't easy catching big dreams In my palms and not losing them in the streams I hoped to have a poem with the best line To be the best rapper and not just mime I wanted to have the roughest car in this city Yes, I needed a big monster beauty I lusted to be upon a podium of fame I wanted to burn with the brightest of flame I had a fatal thirst to spread my tentacles To be the lad who walked out of manacles I wanted to oil the wheels of prosperity A legend who preached against any disparity I wanted to be the real hallmark of charity The bravest enemy to injustice and barbarity I wanted to be a beautiful bloom of peace To let the world be spring of love and bliss I wanted to succeed in all before I leave I wanted to exit the world after finding what I believe I desired to hold hands with my fate I wanted to achieve whatever I did contemplate I did everything, whatever was needed That's how I succeeded*
0
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
SOMEDAY I'LL PROBABLY SAY
it's not that i can't breath just that the air is too heavy too humid too thick with lies and sickly sweet half-truths that choke me up and fill my lungs with smog drowning me with the intention towards strife and barbarity to consume the life-giving and raise the executioners on their thrones of thorns it's not that i can't breath just that the air isn't right does not satisfy this burning in my lungs and the dizzy fog in my head that trips me up and fills my mouth with gasps my lungs heaving against iron bands of cultural and social restrictions on the righteous and leniency for the cruel on their stages in masks it's not that i can't breath just that the air is alive smothering me intoxicating and illusory and insubstantial as a midnight dream that jolts me awake and fills me with unreasoning panic banishing from my mind all reason in the laws of nature to protect the awake and disturb the sleepers in their hollows of selfishness. h.f.m.
0
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
AIR
During this era Actrocities Have conquered the worlds Before this we see clear blue ocean But now everything fulls of redness of blood Human become incompatible Before this the worlds was full of peace now more hostiles Because of money people become complacent and negtectful Their give no thanks to Allah Palestine Never be free till now All the zionis killled people with mercilessly All the children cry They crawl and their never gave up Their got up and syahid Subhanallah To heaven their go masyaAllah
0
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Barbarity
*Pulled into a dark catastrophe, Thinking as a child that how beautiful is this world, And now growing up to see terrorism so common, Suicide bombers run in our land, Hide in places where no one can find them, They **** and slaughter, heartless and more often, Poignant is the pain scarred in people's hearts, Already losing people close to you is so hurtful- That it had to be for these brutes and their plans, that take away more people closer to you, Barbarity and atrocity runs in their veins- As they scatter the world with explosive belts, And holding MP5's and AK-47's like they're nothing but toys, Blood seems to accumulate the emotions in their hearts, Which is why their souls are disturbed and cold, Terrorizing innocent spirits and shedding blood here and there, Liars and deceits sit on the rulers seat, Silently signing up for their plans, And claiming money for each death, Countries fighting among-st each other, Especially innocents being targeted as terrorists, Thanks to our superiors we're nothing but worthless libel's, Humanity has lost its charm, The once depth and affection for kids and women, Leaves behind only raging war, which is on its way.*
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Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
War and Terror
Whoever said they'd like to live forever never considered the barbarity that would bring. The bearer of living forever never forgets the pain forever brings They alone would be the holder of existing alone, the finality of their forever is the fatality of terror.
0
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Forever
Malapartes frozen monuments, the icy "traffic cops" pointing the way to Moscow point out to  me how far we have not come. Curzio's wounded moose bleeding life upon the icy lake attending medics fussing in concern. Hypocrisy? Compassion? Shall our Fate mimic that  of The Horses of  Ladoga. Panicked as the phase shift of our barbarity encapsulates us in the ashes of this most wonderful contrasting world
0
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
Kaputt
Your currency, should currently Be known for it's barbarity Your hostility, and severity Will flip minority to majority The reality and authority That we want to see desperately Is a community that concurrently Finds solidarity and integrity In the simplicity of sincerity Because, you know what? It's not easy, it's simple
0
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
Rise Up
They brought him away from the Front; his nerve or mind or both had gone, something his mind could not confront nor condone, had turned him away with that breakdown of sense which no order nor command could comprehend such slaughter, such barbarity, such blood-letting along the line. George sat in the ward with other officers in different ways of wounded in mind or flesh. The sunlight brought no peace of mind, nor birdsong lift the part of soul from darkness depth. Nurses came and doctors too, words said, suggestions made, but nothing much in the end to do. Spark's head sat on the windowsill, the eyes gazed with a wide-eyed disbelief; the smell of death itches in nose, constant smell, and sound of shells, shell on shell.
0
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
George Hospitalized 1916
The fervid lover sits on the bed, towards the edge With his golden ash tray, and a coal shining near her mouth in washed out radiance, quite enough to overlook. She ashed her medicine, watching the cigarette tears glide to her thigh, bruised by that man with a shared name before deciding that she’ll stay. ******* coward anyway; A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle. Pain came every time the little boy heard his name from the monster who changed when the moon rose over the edge of coliseum mountains, holding barbarity in his eyes and fetor in his mouth. But when the sun rose oh how he loved and looked in admiration, telling him “Don’t shed any tears. There’s nothing to fear. Why shed your tears?” A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle. I put therapy loaded with copper pills in my mouth and gave it a ******* trying to decide in a pool of confused tears my emotions, and if they were stewed or straight edge. I put the syringe down for just a moment and looked beside me, analyzing the plastic cuff with a familiar name before deciding that I’ll stay. ******* coward anyway; A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle.
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Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Trees in the Concrete Jungle
The curt March winds terse elocution , where seagulls explore noonday menus and beg for meager sustenance . A vision of shadow people cleaving the meld o'er boardwalk divisions , blackened , with crested burnt orange perspectives .. The barbarity of water subdued , I am born witness to warm ocean pirouettes .. Where a mans senses become one , at the final turn on the road home ...
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
The Brunswick Bay ...
Prime initiative firing on coke bottle cylinders. A stitch past wearily; his cognitive delirium breeds an alien's barbarity. No flare for a sailor to see, the stillborn sea devours his Saturn Missile pleas like a herbivore foraging fields of forever greens. Castaway calluses stack for an armor-clad effect. Think homemade tank flesh for a rainy day's doom flash. Clickety clack... he's on track. The Lotus's control is unknown. Best take a backstroke anyway, folks. An avalanche throne only holds 'til the caveman's stone is thrown Black hole tenacity God couldn't close.
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 4:03 AM UTC
The Little Boy That Should