Small kingdom large a bevy of beautys dwell fine and sweet
question I deep.
My mind borders on frustration at this sweet place of refined
scents?
Quiet not but sears the nose it will especially the evening
will cast a mean spell early morning crave death and early evening
say kill me knave for I need to breath fresh air before I truly die.
Knave says kill thee I not. Too bad we blame on you.
A chilling migraine strikes between the eye when heat stirs foul stale air die I internally little by little.
Ripe as hell this scent makes the skin crawl and wish hell doors open.
Cast forth the true perpetrators of the scent look even the doors of hell
say reject no entry for them.
If wine is fermented what ails the unknown participants who give mercy to none too developed and ripe say I help help help die I from reeks of unknown casts of
foulness of stale air.
Lord it creeps along floor to floor with hate and malice pounding unmercifully at all.
Malignant rancid attacks all dwell torture torture us savagely by blow blow and on and on and on.
Shame shame even the walls say I am game I plead treaty treaty gave I up. Desire to study flee when wifts slay soul assunder and create an abyss no one dare cross.
Noses down averted grimaces hidden teeth knash a knot in half with supposed disdain.
Flee flee I am from this foulness that killeth me. Slowly Slowly die die die.
You endure you endure you endure ... cannot I this scent drive me mad a curseth malady no one should endure.
By Felicia McCaw
question I deep.
My mind borders on frustration at this sweet place of refined
scents?
Quiet not but sears the nose it will especially the evening
will cast a mean spell early morning crave death and early evening
say kill me knave for I need to breath fresh air before I truly die.
Knave says kill thee I not. Too bad we blame on you.
A chilling migraine strikes between the eye when heat stirs foul stale air die I internally little by little.
Ripe as hell this scent makes the skin crawl and wish hell doors open.
Cast forth the true perpetrators of the scent look even the doors of hell
say reject no entry for them.
If wine is fermented what ails the unknown participants who give mercy to none too developed and ripe say I help help help die I from reeks of unknown casts of
foulness of stale air.
Lord it creeps along floor to floor with hate and malice pounding unmercifully at all.
Malignant rancid attacks all dwell torture torture us savagely by blow blow and on and on and on.
Shame shame even the walls say I am game I plead treaty treaty gave I up. Desire to study flee when wifts slay soul assunder and create an abyss no one dare cross.
Noses down averted grimaces hidden teeth knash a knot in half with supposed disdain.
Flee flee I am from this foulness that killeth me. Slowly Slowly die die die.
You endure you endure you endure ... cannot I this scent drive me mad a curseth malady no one should endure.
By Felicia McCaw
No comments:
Post a Comment