i need to remember you.
twenty three wolves will run an elite unit to destroy the perpetual non-believers. for all this they will no longer bear to see a trembling voice of a premeditated metatron, calling from behind curtains with ill will seeds of a pseudo-gods rule. explosions cause richocets inbetween your spleen and forefingers, static flesh poured and tore a navel to the floor. a whisper and your skin shuttered, we must hurry before the radio signals make you dissappear again. Telekentic transfusions will change your currents; 'cause your electric you'll live on watching the cockroaches roam on.