19 November 2015

ews - spider witch

formless i am deathless, i go in the way of all modes, the mirroring of words like social justice, and hate for all, that i might never tell a joke again, an acrid taste in my mouth, that i left to remain and i remain to leave, leaving the glass figurine spotlight with a horrid feeling and desparate to do it again, what happened to him, he doesn't take rejection well, before each thought i am lost, my eart races and i know i have won, that i am introverted in the deep mask of space, i think the wind blows the stadows thru the trees, branchless aching no separation torrent of ovidarestltly, something misspelled, the keys ahead of hell, the maze the part of juncture swells the walls alive, too much for now to clear my head, that acrid taste again, a rivulet of light in the otherwise blinding thru the trees, it is night and it is day, this we are all i know, not for nothing, the way that skin itches, i push away the line of the breese of the tree dweller, how was this place, there are no stars and i look to the windows like bored and untoward and needn't so, gather the others we hunt ourselves, they, like them to be so truant, objectivity, all things the ways i feel to follow the sound of the individuality lost like sordid surprise torpor languishing distorder of the mind, so boring, innefectual, shall i tell a joke and then invade the next, another hamlet would only be a subject of feeding, yes?, this place now within your own , simpler things i supposedlyricalitativeituidishlyndricalitrificablition, not as fun as it seems for the sake of a tiny spider on a string, not day, that feeling again where the venom of the moon poisons, werewolves packnest within these and are never withdrawn form the tear, a lucid dream, the night burning reason and stomach organ met for the drinding profession, a monkey on a barrel with a box and you hope to serenade my children, fire from the wings of the true valkyries, the ones that bring the breeze, it is cdorrectlyk, and a thousandeus spiders of a thousand more unleshed by the witch, arid sky, the langour and miles, fit for the trees to have branches so high without leaves, little needles for webs to lay liying lace and traces of primordial medieval, to trifle with the spirits, to live agin, this hidden language that the world so fearful, have been saying to that said, i, i twist my neck and wound and bopund like a fiiddler with malaise and spare change in the bed of the tomb, exactly perhaps is quite the trance, passion glides a thousand travvelers not a storm not a swarm but the breeze of spiinniinngg lines from the pines straight as rain and dry as pain, the moments betray me, curses on the rains, a heated passion sings from the skin, my veins decay, i should have asked more questions of the moon, luna moon and fancy swoon the magic fantasy retrace, enlace me by the hundreds of bones to mend like drying grass in autumns nameday replace my fears with toxic delussions, faced by confronting waste, i hear your insults from the woven gloom sir elder tackling glittering bored and bridled winds a-sidled, there is more for strands to come, the blood enters the walls of rot and dismay missedplaced betray, have done or did, the waste that has wrought or the wrest that has wrung, ink or putrefaccion and the last terminus accion acclaimed and breeze alloof, heard of burden's proof a little smoke of rising, like demons or enterprising by the witches and their war, by the sickness wanting moor, by pledging feast ten thousand more, i am a skelten lost so there must not be depraved as the dragons bind my conciounce and the werewolves would soon rave i am to dy unwilling like sun would lose the day, break the bonds the forest storms the rain, sacred is the pain of poison envoy of the death romance my venom will i cast into thee by the torrid bite of rage, by this i must tell in secret, i previewed the view of living will I served it tall in flames, for this under my skin recurring could not to lose my shadow deraming while i burned my skin again, brightly burning hashing ashes breathing bright thes corpse of same, her armor hard and deathly blackeed bu this time once more again, remember how the dying living can inside a dream reamain, had i won or was i woven in the nightmare all the same, like this i watched the scars of vision play my efforts for a name in this tell is thine, or was i poisoned in the end.