The ghostly white, evil ones
Bring and an only through Stupour
Slid into less glorious progress
It hung there
near the keen liar
by the triangle upon triangle
To eternally suffer a lie.
This tattered calendar
The victorious habit
jumping a procession of dead hasidic clowns
a stairwell descends and rises
while woefully picking the drug
to the feeling of terrible modern vileness.
The reality is through desires,
It will sculpt Earth, Carve, wistfully of dead knowing
Earth rests in such silver hailed
Lightning laughs as far as Laurel’s seed
To bring victory to this waning fair
To a dying bride of forgotten eras.
The feeble pathetic protestations
The Jugular bled of trying, choking of Frijôs spirit they failed to destroy
Turn; now yet yield to the signs of a microcosmic singularity.
Blåse førsta Nørd ødelegge.