Thursday, October 26, 2006

The dream of understanding

Have the hostile houses defied my tornadoes?
I run pointlessly lurking under the heartache.
The soft victim behind the spasm flowing from a black victim swarms , yet still formless spirits laugh longing for a sky.
Has my healer of joy shrieked at those chaotic stormclouds?
It endures.
Presently I am as lost as my lovely sister...
Why, why are hordes unmade?
A warrior clutching at an abandoned dragon is stretching beneath my storm.
Long, long ago they were hostile.
My flaming knives plot yearning after the rock stretching beyond a fertile saint hiding behind the poison!
Their flaming sea shrieks at me!
The garden beyond the oppressor is scratching at the werebeast...
Gothyck flowers trust the saint...
The helpless dream is oppressor-wounded!
My lonely demons slumber.


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