I smell a thousand suns unfolding in the sky
They beckon me higher up through the chasm I fly
I bleed inhibitions puke out my will to exist
I become seamless defined by the motion of this
I am what I'm not I am what I'm not
God is a mythos dreamt up together in sleep
He strung from a vision, a wolf ...
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- Wed Oct 20, 2010 7:26 pm
- Forum: Max Bemis and the Painful Splits
- Topic: Our Sentance Is Up
- Replies: 1
- Views: 11201