Statue Sits Longing For Original Love

God has become statufied in his inhumanity. What's a boy to do when his lover has gone away. They throw bleeding poppies on my feet. The tribal infants of some backwards epoch worship me. I am so white and grey with deficiencies of romance. Time is meaningless in it's infinite extension to fading disappearance. 

◄ The Fruition Of Knowledge Fermented and Drunk.

The Serenity Of A Peaceful Sadness ►


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Brian Maryon

Sun 9th Feb 2020 11:04

Cummerbunds rarely act parochially

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