and i am suffocating in this atmosphere where people accrue their demons, crusading towards their own demise yet having no knowledge of their repugnant yellows, & now i emit this cacophony which drops them to their bloodied knees, because these crusaders! these crusaders should not conquer over cairo whilst they massacre the souls of khawarzam, yelling their refusal to conduct these fallen crowns, & my words may seem meaningless to the eyes that flitter with the ignorance of a thousand disbelievers under this apotheosis of a prism so undaunted by its' artifacts, & the people will not realize the utopia or the heliocentrism of my fever until they finally sink into this tempest of despair which drowns them in bitter temptations.
but i pray that they be rightly guided before this era of good is vanquished & only evil doers (like the ones who destroyed these fallen cities) are left, tearing down their guards for the sake of beastly intentions so unbelievably atrocious that the fainting of these leaves would not be enough to stop their conquests extending to the beyond, beyond their ambitious limits; & the only thing i can do is pray, & pray, & pray;— pray that these walls do not close upon us & throw us into an obstreperous suffocation oozing of toxins; & that the mountains are not dusted by the waking of the hour of doom too soon, & that i may embrace death before the eyes become blind to the truth that these sacred pages hold.
YOU ARE READING
an abstract limn
Poetry❝ but this time i will not be lifted from the realms of this catastrophe, this time i will be dipped into the honeyed lox of this saccharine thought; drowning in the depths of the wilted tulips that have not ever to sprout. look at these alstroemeri...
