Tag: writing
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Revenge
My life a mountain, it’s Greek climesAn island of poet kings old rhymesDays of the dog, a corpse consigned to the bogRises up coated in peat slime.His veins are emptyHis pains which in his life drove him insaneGone spun away like wind vanesHe will kill plenty, fold twentyHis gaze still insane he trainsSights on them…
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7 7 7
I’m in a grid of spheres, it’s odd, 777 added totals the tiersThe lightning fork the branches veer toward Yesod from Hod; Mortal to GodTower in the fog: laid out on cold stone the tat of old croneSplayed out her bold bones the twats I’ve old known and outgrown like kid’s bones.Charms spun on bone…
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Boo

He is unbound now and dates and days bereft of meaning mound like dust, their puzzling associations lost like the siren’s songs. Arbitrary totems marking the ceaseless march of illusory matter hold little luster.
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Babylaunchpad Failure

Miracles which mandate murder. At a sniff of evolutionary advantage, inert iterations which crave life and its luster will preside over anarchic epochs.