You succeed.
In laws of three. You will find the peace you
Wish to believe exists but for now is hidden under heaving fits of painful death, a test to draw out that which never minds rejecting the demands of other beings
Hammer under nail, no compare to restless privy minds slowly counting time until the new tragedies arrive.
Release your hold of pieces calling out for pain to pair once treasured memories. Now staring out with infectious longing, ready to be looked upon smirking and expectant the turncoat thoughts revel in the task at hand. Their assault starts as soon as the thought is called
Aftermath
Released to the gravity, by themselves they fall apart
Into place, covering flesh torn with sympathy
Released from beasts that grit their teeth in painful defeat, as, yes,
you rise to your feet, Torn to pieces, yet completely at peace, distant memory terror dreams distort to bring chaotic memoirs of cataclysmic merriment.
You utilize the pieces to assure your release from pains prison to pleasant pastures. Please just remember never obey the masters. Create sarcastic narratives pledging senators to heretics. Don't trust fantasy banner ******* brand name Promoters. Lœsers leading children to sheep eye machîne, specially crafted master adapters hard wire minds to the one percent agenda, intuition driven minions giving men to temptress, hoof to fenthris, dope to misfits, coke bottles to **** maker accomplices driven awkward and subsequently dove off for bottom place.
Freebie

I mote it. Be recieved with sight conscious of that which truth and wisdom delight.
Everfolding hands coalesce in geometry of design, symbols to be applied to help those who can't live. Honestly.
A prophetic glance manifests what this prophet percieves within this mess.

This species will mirror the mentality of the dust
It's depths a source of nourishment and plenty to us, the rust
Will we find the hero to navigate the puppetmasters collective cluster conglomerate commissioning commonwealth copperpot penny peasantry meat, footwoorkin the fleet floggers, ambushing citizens in the streets with collars, brainwashing caverns codependent on caging the masses like sheep to slaughter.
"But if we'd known we'd scream and holler! I'd rise to protect my property, my guns, my freedoms, my rights!"
Right, no, I'm sure you'd fight, you'd obviously gather friends to your plight, indigenous rage at the thought that the night would defend those evil shadow people encroaching on your ability to reason.
Shut the **** up, what the **** have you done to avenge those innocents of fate, unknowingly recollecting secrets of the state
Hate not flaking over city lake waters like mirrors hiding secrets well obvious.

Money & public resources alleviate proof of collusion simple doors of power hold new potential outcomes timed each revolution the little hand dares to travel. that of a sacrifice, willing or not, to help scare the sheep into buying as much of their stock, if your worried please do not, the flock will forget what they saw as soon as the image and story are gone.

Gotta be.

A solution so fitting it belongs in the movies, but that's how we forgot how to think, outside
For ourselves,for them, or the others
Rebelling as one towards sisters and brothers
*******, I need show my true face
Walk calmy down the streets,
Calm sure pace.
Talk macabre to the one's who own the fleets, spread the sheets to occupy the godhead, sift the merry morning stocks press against the current sea, then bust out enough to make me n mine a new currency.
Probably
Not so sore plot B soars blotting lenses before but not training more thoughts to war forescore before plot thickening remorse runs it course.
A new day in gotham city means unity throughout forgotten realms of hypocrisy. A cure-all demonstration that revels insanity for placid reasonably dressed persons composed, unfearing conversations of dominating resolve, stoicism spinning round professional mannerisms focusing on abilities that take the core of our rotten hearts and heal the waste, now it stays, hurting less sounds okay away from the corrupted hunting of weak willed pumpkins jumped over plummeting suns, all for one's been a worn out joke, once well spoken juxtaposed to unholy notions unnaposed sides take thrill **** maxxing to disastrous uprising in past the warcasters
Talked with the enemy over tea and brunch of tables shared only with tokens of luck, fliping thrice indicates which squadron lots gets iced.
Word gets out and like fire it don't take much for a war to sprout in the bogs of ire, but before it's allowed, the dog rise together finally to figure **** out, creating together masterpieces on earth to reoccur annually until our home is brought back to a state we continue symbiotically.
Fate to be

**** it all, the last of my regrets was all reasoning needed to keep breathing.
Something other than this wretch that I am
Existing for no reason but to help others pass the seasons with my singing