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Post by thefleetsin on Mar 4, 2017 20:36:21 GMT
across the great collide
as is the case in so many a race where we all must face a music that sounds off-key and quite frankly from the far reaches of an outer space where all your demons come home to taunt you into believing there's a room with an immaculate view of worlds never before seen.
and all it takes is you and being a brand of outspoken and down right mean. until the world is bound by an obscene gesture to a raging king who thinks everything boils down to marketing as if finer things were all worth dying for.
super colliders and glorified whores in mocking chairs playing chess, dressed in the capes of children's innocent flesh.
go ahead and be your best. but don't pretend you've passed some sort of test touting bravery as your illuminated crest.
sjw 03/04/17 inspired at this very moment in time by the tinge along the shining path.
from the 'blitzkrieg series' of poems
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