bliss
The Utopian Syndicate
Posts: 379
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Post by bliss on Jul 17, 2011 23:20:53 GMT -8
Thomas XVII "woven vector"
Tangled His Web Becomes
Thomas Is Strung Up On the the Ropes Though Strategically Placed In the Judge's Corner No Goddamned Doubt
Decanting Panting Ranting Something Complicated
His Web's Beams Strengthen Feeding Latching Into Judges' Eyes A Gaze In pairs Of two Drums Beat Surrounding A Venue Soaked In Blood Ghouls Of The Night Thomas' Minyions Travel Steadfast With Commitment Haggered Eyes Wide Cringe Worthy Stares abound Lucid fog like dreary
Telling Lies the web Thickened
Thickens Enlivens All Consuming In
Drones Waves Of tones
Droning Over
And Over
His clutches Grippens More And More
Tightly
With Time
Over
And
Over
In
His Muck Dusted With Grime
We
Have
B E C O Me
One
Thomas
And
M E
The Fight Ceases At the Tone Of A Bell Sending Us Separating Us Forcing Us To Our Corners
Where The Stares Lock At wavering Illusory Changing Distances And The Coaxing The MindFuck Wears On
And Then... Ding
Thomas Its Round 17
And All I got To say Is Your All Shades Of Fucked
Now
I Assure Thee
Let's Go
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