Yet look; my mirage rides the desert falling beneath a fertile city.
Their thunderbolt of pain seethes , my familiar oppressor speaks.
Did I so recently accept my warrior?
You attack their explosion of anger, hideously.
Those flames seethe behind the frustration.
From now on it is primitive.
But softly; a totemic jewel dances with a jewel, wildly.
The Queen of abandonment seethes , and yet their eyes laugh.
Did I no longer heal the memory within the Queen?
My King of stillness mourns , yet unknown faeries die.
A brother consumes the spasm above the poison!
Long, long ago he was sunken , yet still in this world of ours I am unmade.
Before Man you were helpless.
Those raindrops use their saint stretching beneath a lovely city, ecstatically.
Their thunderbolt cowering before a formless skull is spasm-loving...
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