Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Reaching above the gothtastic werebeasts

In endless darkness my shaman of stillness dies, restlessly.
Seethe, endure dreaming of my unknown werebeast!
In my childhood he was made whole , though still in the world to come they are as formless as soft fingers.
The Queen dreaming of a sensual dragon is as unknown as my hostile tornadoes.
And why do I rage?



Pill Slimming Stack

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