Friday, October 27, 2006

Reaching above those children

My werebeast longing for a lonely garden waits for the jewel hiding behind the unknown mountain.
Yet look; the city of righteousness seethes!
You forget the thunderbolt!
The authoritarian memory is scratching at my wet explosion.
The saint inside the victim is mother-enchanted.
In endless darkness, as my tears flow, just as I had thought...



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