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We Are Feign To Discover A New Way To Speak


A Vastly Different Understanding Far Past The Peak


Longingly Into The Glass Staring, Dost The Mind See


Toward Some Far Outlandish Belief, Barely Breathing


Drowning At The Sounds Deep Laughing Til Eyes


Bleed Out The Root Growing Through The Street


We Are Fairly Sworn To The Midnight Bite Of All


Every Sin Beneath The Sun For Every One Until


Time Runs Out Of Sand To Count And Each &


All Symbols Of The Languages Spread  

The Dancing Destructive

Thinketh It Not The Same For Thee


Think Once More It Is The Time To Be Anything To Anyone


Think Thy Hideous Blasphamour Think Once More To Be


Of A Child Find In Each The Surface Of The Face Reflecting Back To Thee


I Thinketh Nought To Believe In Moving Shadows Tongue


I Find Once More The Mask Of A Distance Of History


Down


At The


Entangled Shrug


Lifting Faceless From The Carpet In The Room Just Once More Back Into To Prove


Just It Is To Prove It To Thee Thyself The Slave The Date The Everyday It is To Whom


For Each And All Far Along The Stream The Leaves They Allude For The Time Being


Just For This Time Believing That Each Tree Unfurled The Arms Hanging From The


Branch, That Every Leaf The Same Instead In Veins They Read Every Word Insanity


Plucking Each The Verbose Languages Lucidity Masked Marauder Within The Fountain


Leap, Leap, Twas' The Words Spoken And It Drifts By & By Almost Like The Laughter


Twas It Then The Revolving Spinning Whirlpools Murder Of A Prince Playfully Returning

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don't begin to tell me otherwise struck life into the darkest night of death's iniquity


evermore the seams torn at the point of restitching up the skin peeling oft bleeding


twas the mind there before there was thought, was the thought there before mind


ever was, was the conciousness something growing beneath the mindless discovery


was the overload describable by the words unspoken, written in soliloque, revelry


writing words unspeakable and talking about nothing at all then, what it is, nothing


all before there was a thought to be, all was there for an instance at the bottome of


the epophany, what is a revelation anyway, wherefore unto thoughts invigoration


something hereforeto unknown once before now known once more to be, forever


lasting thing drifts on down the stream into the sky bleeding at the sight of a such


a question then, twas it thee, shall it be, further than furtherest deep, deeper than


the common understanding oft had for revelatory beleif of the unfolding petals


blossoming into spring for falling for a theif of the evervescent depth of the roses


death at the hands crushing madnesses into the warmth of another dying day, one


just arisen at the sunless dawn for colours thrown and shattered mirrors talk twice


once behind the eyes and deeper into the mindlessly conceived entropy masked as


illusion, twas it then a trick, twas it thee, shall it be one more time to falter line like


wings spread open beneath the sinful sun burning up for feathers dost ignite the


sky beneath the black moonlight little is it, time, moreso less than nought could be


grasping at the nothingness for words that find reflections speaking blasphemy unto


me, thou dost see thyself in me nor do I nor does thy gravest meander through thy


garden desert through the starless canopy through the blackest of the lightly drawn


where shall the mark be sought, where shall the sand be caught before it falls, far


before it twas ever thrown beneath the sparkling light of the sunshine within the


home see here to this the golden endeavour the misaligned distances to find wher e


it begins and ends before the song was started and far along the way of the captives


thought processed within constructive crosses roped, tossed the whole damn thing in


an away message, where hast it i have been, where have I been thou sayest unto me


what is it that thee know and what more, what more is it thou can tell unto me, speak


reflection splintering out from the lucid screams felt somewhere and heard, never, and


when it twas that thou wast there and I was here once more, standing there before it


was kneeling on the floor, written unto myself the repeating skip, forever was a time ago


history in death's robes robbing me of time, stealing once more the diamonds from the


baskets three yet, which is it now, and what shall it be when thou ist done with me, wicked


fiend, oft the reflection not matching the movement of the feet ever receeding deeply


into nightfall, darker than the blacker thoughts enlightened by the black blood spilling


from the chandelier from the black flames hanging upon the wicks of candles melting at


the touch of the mind before the mind it twas before the consciousness aligns with one


just one more shall it be, just one more time, please, rips the doves wings cleanly, the


blood shall be, it lingers in the midaires before collapsing once more to the knees at


the table carving initials with the teeth plucked from the skull fucked for the nightcap

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