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Friday, January 27, 2012

Torn between opposing forces.

He's back.

The Contortionist is different now. More empty. Less.. responsive.

He's a shell.
I suppose I can relate.
Things are going to get bad.
Messy bad.

Left with only soil beneath my fingernails from the potter’s field.
Six feet under lay the vaulted graves of bodies that didn’t yield.
This world is drifting through an ocean that despises me, and the
continent is not content with being connected, I am relative.
Six feet Under lay the vaulted graves of bodies that did not yield.

Until Next Time.


  1. If it helps.. I don't despise you.

    Remember me when you fall.

  2. So much pretty text. Care to come and talk to us again?

  3. Dia- It's coming.

    Serve- I can only hope.

    Amy- I'm always here.

    Until Next Time.