Hiding Child//World most Wild.
And to hide from the garbage headaches stemming from his deeply drinking eyes, the husk was cobbled of the construed psychic ephemera and moored to the core, the armor has become the knight. His heart, accustomed to be as anvil has nursed addictions to drinking fire and hammering out flaws.
But was there an alternative? How much was the environment surrounding?
Looking about and seeing mostly eyes clenched like fists crying, and fists clenched and bloody. Thems in the depths and throes of pretending to casually laugh off violence. Smiles that eat. Gifts that need. I need you to feel me, you feel me? That was the sort of alien landscape he was thrown into.
Whatever gift long squandered, intent has long wandered; Harry, O militant mutant!
Listen to cries begging for the right catalyst. How much more genetic drift must a soul endure?
One thing is for certain, the furnace came in the gut. The constant quality, consume and burn, eat and run hot, sate and grow warm. It's comforting to me. Never change, Boiler-man.
But was there an alternative? How much was the environment surrounding?
Looking about and seeing mostly eyes clenched like fists crying, and fists clenched and bloody. Thems in the depths and throes of pretending to casually laugh off violence. Smiles that eat. Gifts that need. I need you to feel me, you feel me? That was the sort of alien landscape he was thrown into.
Whatever gift long squandered, intent has long wandered; Harry, O militant mutant!
Listen to cries begging for the right catalyst. How much more genetic drift must a soul endure?
One thing is for certain, the furnace came in the gut. The constant quality, consume and burn, eat and run hot, sate and grow warm. It's comforting to me. Never change, Boiler-man.