when the earthcrust churns, bounces and heaves, whilst a murder of crows gyrate as dead weight from the brumous heavens, spreading their poison of black omens, and the farmer dines on his wife's ashes watched by the senile eye of the hooded sun, the mute hours limp in tune with the yelping dirge of soused wraiths wheedling the aggravated billows to unleash their voltaic outrage, a figure forges ahead with nimble skill across seracs and moraines formed from man's repertoire of prosaic enterprises nullified. wary of loquacious hierophants promising opulent vales and sordid potlachs sprinkling trinkets of convenience to the comatose drove as they wriggle in flat resignation inside the labyrinth of their own dun-hued, stale abdomen, the wayward wanderer tersely censurs a dying world's lore from his ocean deep soul and takes in the beech's cool shade the little death in a loving embrace. engulfe...
they walk in the morning with hunched bodies in thin supermarket cloths, barely in control of their shivers; their heads full of waning delirium. the frosty air makes them edgy, their movements are floundering, like a broken record idly wheeling past the production of any sound. their blunt eyes and sordid smiles hint on dead souls stamped with the rictus of idiocy. the glory of dawn ignites and shames the waste of consumerist barracks and temples of intoxication, while weeds between cracks, spilled leaves victim to seasonal tides and guardians of lanes revel in melancholic dignity before the bustling writhing traffic sinks them back in the clouded background. now they loiter in rank smut corners of subways, pentices and against lamp posts, at home in wafts of acrid urine, bakkeries of vomit and stacks of variegated dumping, their dialogues unfold in a series of grunts, monosyllables and shouts, interspersed with hoarse laughter. they glean the world with muted...
Rise up towards the dawning red, never a hostage to that stolid fiend, the moor of despairs - Your flames burn those fermenting shadows, where an indolent spawn was birthed from tears of seasonal limbo. Walk tall through wintry haars and in the dead of the night, cast your wrath around and avail yourself a new Kingdom!
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