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Clouds / Feast

twas' just a number of hours ago when i had finally ascended from the gravestone the one


in which I had eaten the two flowers and began to give in to the overtaking madness


with two hands skeleton gripping the skull tearing out what is within, flowers, that make


them so, in every existence through out all dimensions the same enveloping message


from the walk with the captain of the ship whom had showed me what it is to keep building


the kingdom stone by stone, back then, couldnt remember if I ever wrote about it, i kept


it stone by stone and every mistake I made, removing one, round and round in flames I


would continually walk, those flowers eat souls alive, yet it is the surprise in which lucidity


awakens, the sun shining mystery, perfectly aligned through the window shade after a walk


in the garden, leaves just newly raked, twas just a smoke and the light tripping the soul on


a sharp stone, to then be given back to me, trumpet blaring, from the green fairy, I sweare it


how long has it been this time exactly, another seven years spent in the mirror shattered


reflectings upon the mystery of a tomb, slain for a fool, staring up into the blue sky moving


in every time the same for all time to thee, the first recollection of each the altars three


around the centre point of the sacrificial belief rising again from within the trap door beneath


the floorboards with a heart in the hands, only ten years old and yet, closes it all up with the


wand and marks the sigil atop the wood replaces the carpet where once was the pyre burnin'


through each the books knocked tumbling over like a skipping stone the fifth harmonic note


and he laughs taking shapes and filling out forms of various disguises hiding trying nought


to see, there, that is all, there it is then, once more unto the beckoning call of celebration

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