

Tinsel WindIn the suttle light of Albion, trough the four corners of our mindfields.Tinsel Wind
In the hue of the dissolving wind;
we lay apart, wanderers of lost.


Grand Guignolin chlorine infused dreams we grave for the passion that is paradise lostGrand Guignol
always forever more
godlike creatures are meddling in most likely theathers of human unhappening
we´re like a blank verse reversed
--
.:. :.. :: ....
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