"Now within the obscurity of my nightmares, I coerce my division into psychosis. Though I yearn to let my angst go, I can’t. I worship the dusk and the demented site my humanity has befallen. My psyche, a manic maelstrom. My shade, a bloodthirsty tsunami. And my tenderness, once filled with a spirited beacon, has become cinders, where no reflection subsists any longer. Nix zeal, tolerance, or perceptiveness. Only damaged models; remains that gore my comatose affections over and over again. And I hemorrhage, ceaselessly waning, expecting purely an altered form overcome by debauchery." - Me.
Posted on: Tue, 06 Aug 2013 01:47:08 +0000