i heard the fall of 4 more angels this morning burning their wings to a crisp screaming at the top of their lungs "is it all my fault that i have been brought to this unruly world?" and then being turned on their sides to be swept beneath wallets heavy and fashionably designed with in-style patterns of ideas--i say discourse being not only when you accept but when you accept to critisize in that precise way and overlook such angels of no crime roll over in their blood--ambushed! frightened!--this world this world has nothing to offer but a pile of bones where once stood a son--
it is the first of may today. a wise man (on certain accounts) sparked a fire that roared and came rolling down the mountains but somehow just never manage to fit itself into the villages--one can only hope--the day may come after all--as another wise man (also on certain accounts) had said "I have no objection to wealth, the trouble is the aquisition"--amen then brother
and this in the honor of the day--this most powerful silver sword you plunge into the heart of that wicked sense of justice--bet that wasn't what the third very wise man (on even more certain accounts) had in mind but --listen &read the words of this one read it like it's written in front of your eyes and maybe you will feel its presence tie a knot in your throat but if not--still--i'd say it's all right ma-- i may be the only one sighing after all--
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