Lo, It Has BegunLo! It Has BegunLo, It Has Begun
At the moment of the Trumpet All brass shall decay The Lord sets His foot upon the mote The oceans have long since been overrun by scum, Vermin of all foul sort. Blink, and cryptic monstrosities overcome. The End of Ages and Youngs.
And it has begun. The skies tear open wide to reveal the cage. The Eye is ever-present, dreams remembered. Imagine. Heaven has been overrun by Hell. The sheep is ever-slain, its blood nourishing those creatures. Nails driven Crainium. Breaking open the Beautiful hatred, crimson-flavored violants
The Posthumorous Decaydence ofThe Posthumorous Decaydence of Polyaimorous MisanthropyThe Posthumorous Decaydence of
Being a product of their surroundings Anti-chameleons
Programmed by experience, At genesis, Tabula Rasa By death, a database. The Sixty-six angels prowl The Guardian is The Watcher: nothing shall pass its watch. Do as thou wilted.
Twelve HoursA culture of deca(y)dence perpetuated by the instability of subjective realities.Twelve Hours
Elric tries and yet I... well, let's say that who a person is may be so deep as to be a foundation, unchangeable. Disinterested or in a fugue of overstimulated pathos.
My God, what have I become? Everyone I know...
Gravity pulls everything down. Entropy decays. Time kills it all.
At the end will be a cold heat, after the stars become cold stones. For trillions of years after the last star dies, the universe will be a great void hovering about three degrees above absolute zero. Even after the l
Molasses is Quicksilver BleakI haven't forgot that things have rot. Widows wept, soldiers kept. Seen secrets destroy loves, create hate. Obliterate all sense of sense. The world's eye-view, the telescreens. Delusion scenes. Insanity schemes under the table, we aren't able to see. Entropy. Decaying rapidly, viscousity pervades veins. In vain are trains and planes for plains will remain. The bane of plain is here, I fear, and there and everywhere the air is the lair of bare despair and barren imagination. &nMolasses is Quicksilver Bleak
Tomorrow, and
Tired
Thank you so much for adding Our House to your
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"Being happy does not mean that everything is perfect. It means that you have decided to look beyond the imperfections." - Maya Angelou
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My father died, and then I cried
But I failed to see-
I'm not alone, to sit on the throne.
He lives inside of me.
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