Words, destined words of shattered dreams, emerge,
painfully, from molten fingers.
Distinct, this digital consumption, rarely seen and hardly
estimated, defined by a mold so fragile and discreet, it's
angels themselves who don't share secrets. Nonetheless this
disrespect, hidden, frightened, timid additions to limits of
friction, denied by existence, rejected by birth.
To a secret dimension they follow, so caring computing and
true, extended, a brain to the fingers, embark then a light
from the void. It's not about nothing, in general so, around
and fulfilled and overwhelming and through. Penetration, a
combination of letters forgiven, infection of intimate
feelings and thoughts, blasphemous, obedient and cruel.
Inquisition of love hate and glory, a mixture emotions
uncut, no order or sense and no meaning, supplying a cover
closed shut. With grace then the white star bends over, and
tells the unspoken of lies, it's shot dead with a flash of
black matter, then falling to a heavenly truce. The blink of
existence unraveled, oblivion pits and infernal, red orange
flame of deadly eruptions, so comes the piano of lost souls
and redemption, like a chorus of great dead imposters, they
wanted a taste of it too.
Too bad and unfortunate pleasure, was taken with grasps of a
morning moist dew.
The rain and the organs were clever, sophisticate honest and
weak, so soft and protected like roses, shine pink in the
background of blue. The concept of being so special and
keen, to destroy what's within, to obtain this surreal, and
discover what's over the edge of forever demand and reject
and protest and protect and find out the obituary, dyed
green, or black. Mostly then it's the end soon to see hear
and mend, just to stand to bestow shiny glow of joy and
pain, smoke and rain, fire and light, magic and might, just
might. All through the night this fight over slick cliffs of
mental, verbal riffs put together, for never, or clever or
not, fucking hot, yes, resort.