From where does beauty hail, indeed from where then does lust crawl? From under the carpet, swept, as to ascend in darkness from corners unchecked? What lust, a test, to the imagination? As to want to break your godly silence? Do you, one before Man, spirit of the gods, proclaim to lose your very rights? Do you hate of yourselves this much, to the plenitude of wrath on self? What did you do indeed, brother, who has fallen, as to die bloody from but the scrape of the knee? Were you not great, before the red invaded into your bed and your loins. Now proud you are, to poof up thyself, as if the impression onto a harlot ever mean as much? So to betray your Principles, your purity, you rank under Uber Gott Supreme?
Sunday, March 22, 2015
The Fallen spinners~
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
From where does beauty hail, indeed from where then does lust crawl? From under the carpet, swept, as to ascend in darkness from corners unchecked? What lust, a test, to the imagination? As to want to break your godly silence? Do you, one before Man, spirit of the gods, proclaim to lose your very rights? Do you hate of yourselves this much, to the plenitude of wrath on self? What did you do indeed, brother, who has fallen, as to die bloody from but the scrape of the knee? Were you not great, before the red invaded into your bed and your loins. Now proud you are, to poof up thyself, as if the impression onto a harlot ever mean as much? So to betray your Principles, your purity, you rank under Uber Gott Supreme?
From where does beauty hail, indeed from where then does lust crawl? From under the carpet, swept, as to ascend in darkness from corners unchecked? What lust, a test, to the imagination? As to want to break your godly silence? Do you, one before Man, spirit of the gods, proclaim to lose your very rights? Do you hate of yourselves this much, to the plenitude of wrath on self? What did you do indeed, brother, who has fallen, as to die bloody from but the scrape of the knee? Were you not great, before the red invaded into your bed and your loins. Now proud you are, to poof up thyself, as if the impression onto a harlot ever mean as much? So to betray your Principles, your purity, you rank under Uber Gott Supreme?
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