As the drums go off in the cavern we a whole village sit together in unison we end up foaming green bubbles and slime from our mouths and our eyes going back white as snow which we will never see. The man in the middle was an albino pastor, his name was Nimbus and Nimbus was a king. He prigged the flesh he wears now but for he had a true deglamorized form. A pink-skinned devil with a crown of hay who places a squirrel and bees enswathed in the shroud of Turin. When fully covered a loud voice from within a bolt of lightning pierce the very top of the cavern we all were still foaming on our knees agog to what it had to say. Be demerged my sons for the moon has blessed you with this power that you both hold and from the shroud were twin boys we stopped foaming the twins one who controlled the earth and the other who controlled the very shadows themselves. For hail, the twin kings for one is the lord of the moon to desist the tribe of elves, the other was the ruler of the sun who worked with the great giant red octopus that resides in the sun.
Categories:
prigged, dream, fantasy, father son,
Form: Free verse