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The Garden Of Life

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  • Chris
    A blue-grey night hangs oddly out of place where frozen electric storms join the memory of uncloaked ambition. Winter calls and the tiny people drift from
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 31 2:43 AM
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      A blue-grey night hangs oddly out of place
      where frozen electric storms join the memory

      of uncloaked ambition. Winter calls and the
      tiny people drift from their beckoning hovels

      in preparation for erotic adventures. Silver
      air bonds the winds of temptation. Tiny fingers

      reach out trembling hands to grasp the last of
      the hot water as it drips from an out of date mind.

      Nude, the situation develops with the same intensity
      that it would finally end. And they called out in terror,

      in revulsion as the jumping vines of ultimate distance
      wrapped tangled chains around their necks. Cold dark

      heat waves drifted casually across the lives of the
      people so small. Drowning fate in caskets of puss melted

      carefully around the eyes of the persecuted. Tiny legs
      chained in mindless droning of factory dragons demanding

      retribution for every quota that was never to be met.
      And they whined about the lazy flowers that would not

      grow despite the fertilizer dropped harshly onto the
      garden of life. The elite living in empty souls.







       
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