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beneath the canopy of death

for words unspoken and things unspeakable, yet ever just a distance a way a


fire. burning urn upon the pedastall of death's three headed beast, a snake a


a snake, serpentine invocations for vicious involutions reality barely grasped


and all intricacies masked like, when the details do complete the canvas round


the frame the demons dance in circles and circles, within every instance, a


recollection of congregational masses that hardly could explain a concept, to


burn, what more words couldst there be too provocatively, it collapses before


words unspeakable and unspoken it will be before we leave, before there was


some sort of unreconcilable nothingness at the vast expanse of the abyss lingering


doubts oft a paradigm without ferocious teeth, to bite, and fall unashamedly into


the clouds masked as the sky in the mirrored reflection light from the eyes shines


black light encompasses the spectrum of revelatory mastery, how does one say it


thank you to God in the prayers oft had beneath sheets wearing the midnight fleece


shivering from the come down of just this mornings newly wrought coffee had, and


to sip from it again, o how holy it is, the grail of the masters temple, far away from it


the cup of woe, evermore the masked face in the mirror glowing at the finely tuned


at the worst of all times, it is true, make a man amen, make a widow's tear diamond


made from the darkest depths of hellfire's hottest, just then it was a memory, just then


it is promises written accursed, all from the nothingness within, and without asking too


much, never a question at hand, always a memory lost to the revelatory celebration being


one more step past the ripples of the sand in the moonless light had once beneath the


stars, beneath the canopy of death, the pure abode, a fetish idol, and a knife it twas to


then cut it with, skulls fall like rainbows fall like rainfalls in the reflection from this height


shimmering flight of the devil's wings, tarred and feathered bones found at each suicidal


mindless dawn the dripping drops of dew falling against the diamonds liquid menagerie


exploding in coloured disarray to find all behind the conscious perspective beyond the


perception, took almost a full minute of introspection just to uncover the buried face


deeply into mind's erased, entering heaven the eyes captivated, and by further cruelties


don't let it drift away, all a hand above the precipice to be held, no, to be worshipped


then, to be be led astray and find nought else exists but this horrible weather, ah i swear it


grey for days, the sun only just newly arisen at the reminiscience, at the, eventual tense


tearing out the heart's reluctance to give in, smashing the mirror fixed, fixing the mirror then


to smash it again just for to be in pieces of liquid mercury as it pools round and round the


various pin pointed obscurations of a lucid mind reveling in the lucid dalliance of dance


twas a dip in the black abyss tis just a drop suspended upon the metal flowers petal tipped


to call it a square would be far removed from the meaning wrought from out within from in


without a question then it was as if the sword itself leveled the memory held by two hands


offering of a ceremonial destruction the sword spins in place above the constructed vision


like a whirling madness each and every language devilish as tongues split eyes cursed mask


full of holes, or two it twas to the circumfrance of the radius measured for the distance of a


spinning diamond upon the capstone of the pyramid, where is it that light so far in the way


to be so far into a paradigm of actualities, creating something from nothingness the way


arising within, golden dawns newly wrought spark from the sharpened edge of a blade


wherefore art is the stone and life is a measureable preamble written in a language secret

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