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Watch Winding
The warlock winds his watch
and channels a spiritual seranade.
The caliber of all the days here
pressures the cellular activities.
Starving is a shackling shame
and creation is a technological sun.
Rythym redeems the finding fights;
corruption spins vexed spiderwebs.
Following the flight from the plight,
careful chaos weens on naturally.
A path of immortal dust just
forgets that angels are still flying.
liberation for all
it is wonderful that angels are still flying thank you
and all fallen angels, imho, will rise to join the others
Thank YOU!
You are spirtually practical, obviously in line with the divine.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitues