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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Lust's Sickness throws off the yoke, of cure? Defiant in-body, pleasures obscure. A mask, of pride, a lost soul-in vogue capture, a hell-ride in the belly of a beastly whore. The salt crystal shines your thirst back to you in a drowning mirror that blinds you. It's image, in-retrograde. Worship of false idol, self, made, self that binds you. You are tapewormed, pinned at the head, eating the loop of tale. A process processing by lassoing, the masochism of sin. The Harlot, riding an illusion abiding, of perverted grandeur, aboding the Vale, in a warped game of intelivision in the City Dell. Rally the standard, flags, censors, sensor a game, of shell, of humanity being played, like a fiddle, rung like a bell. Their humanity wanes, from defiant song in the harmonic scale, of fever. Their body a signet, of times despoil. The occulus hourglass abacus mirror waxing cold, fusion spirit, ether, spell for sale, sold. Doors closing double folding into the dimension of troubles. Shopkeepers of the gates of Hell, and souls falling onto the other. Neon is in the blood, signed, XXX - 666, enter, the veil. Apocalypservices, the last vomiting throes of Society's-former Dale. BDSM by Hollywood (wand not for display), at the demonic re education menagerie. Self's gallery for sale, while burning, nativity to ashes, carbon to polish our looking glasses. Sold-out to the oil of midnite. Snaking, on a torch lit by the way of political prophet-eering incite. Insight of conscience swayed by field communications, too near. Of Olympus-apothecarried by the scales in motion, weighed by fears'-musings-fear. By Reptilian, Orwellian, modern, progressive notions caught doing. Explosive, fiery things. Burn us to death, in house arrest, in-deed to fuel one's own un, manifest. Doing, one's undoing at the behest of the WEF
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