10:27 p.m. 2005-05-12
A facet of color and the aspect of a soulful farewell bidding a goodnight to this amber nighttime. Break my fixation with shades of forgiveness and a haunting note reflected in your words. Trail off...
And you will know us by the trail of dead.
We will pass this revenge through crimson streams and the echoing posture of a fallen comrade. I will split these rivers with your failed attempts and the atrophy that crippled your entry. Cut that city. We will be the ravagers and your wilting will fade. Come tomorrow there will be nothing left.
Catharsis endowed in movement and the embodiment of grace. Perpetrate your premeditated philosophy timed through contradiction of grace and a preemptive emptiness echoing to the beat of the drum. Just existing. Sheer dreams contracting the disease through prostration and consistent return to fantasy. In this world we come to realize that these words will never be uttered and that every song is a repetition of our hearts.
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