Burning of human memories

Principalities lost between the flicks of the sun. Personal cargo brought to the idea miasma as it disappears with the inconspicuous moments that lead to a repeat of many good times.

Good and honest what you said as I fell asleep and then forgot, stuck behind a thin veneer of understanding. All great things come to an end” they said, when we were just as wild as the winds of Aeolus. I cried when all was lost, the familiar was so close to touch yet I couldn’t reach those. The smell of incense assaulted my mind, those smells of the church of St D…

Memoir oral edition first print, final release as the precious breath was sucked by the evil earth in that so dread traditional dance of burning neurons. A cyclical fire doused

with what was.

When we warp windy waves, wells weighted with working wedded wyverns whirled willow wails whinnies within winged walls wiring wheels, waiting wens wallow wearily whence wise willed while worried Wappenschawing.

Faraway dream of you,

soulless feeding through,

people meeting you,

beetles seeping through,

monsters writhing wills writing diddles wording candle wicks full of ticks

deteriorating self

during thee summer of action.

It felt great when we were happy, but I’ve forgotten what that was.

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