The Masks

Four masks interlocked in dreadful stare

Observation changing all before

Entangled weave of gazes entwined

To make all, that once was not,

Now there


Four masks caged in pained haunt

To build, To burn, To act, To plan

A raging storm with no end or halt

The vortex spiral of dreamland


Four masks making haste to plan all fate

Fighting for a secure place in the abyss

Longing to fill a thirst they cannot sate

Creating chaos in darkened mist

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Ayn


Shes Dead

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