Now it is here, heard by its courting and strings. Rocking back and forth with this thing and requiem. A new and eternal one, erie, and only as soft as the sick mind dreamed, and wanted. The gears and strings pump this climax and salty tune. Yet it ends so easy.
Praise New Hours, a ticking clock to the foreign loss and familiar social pressure on a 21st century turn. Broken and fixed broken and fixed, upon repeated more beats and thoughts and proof of provocation of those of the past idiocratic splendor. Fortunes feedback undue splendor placed on self fear, hatred and robbery. CastContinue reading “The All too True Change of Marker”