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Come forth you trampled shy violets, you slack jawed cowards. Yes, you to you craven denizens of the mask. Masks that hide you under veils of rotten worthless worldly dandies. Forsakers of hells breaker for sickly sweet earthly candies. What unholy tryst did you forge for lips stained thickly red, fingers burnt inky green and souls so, so, so…black. Only hell and heaven know what lies you build in your memory with magicians tricks, broken mirrors and coal smoke to create your fun house fantasy. You laugh throaty tears as your favorite clown of flaws beats you raw and bleeding, all for a moment, a chance, that the world, your little hive or perhaps even just one stranger will glimpse you in that spinning spot light. No more my youthful beacons, no more will you be spent on a friendly invaders fancy. Come forth to the hill of crosses three, don’t for a moment think of brining your filters, your blindfolds or your eyelids.  Look hard and heavy on the metal splinters piercing Holy God in your horrific honor. Look and realize what soft destiny you have inherited thus that you are so ashamed of. Now, dust off your hearts and bring out your bottled tears and prepare to feel like you have never before. Prepare, prepare, prepare because it’s war.

I.F.

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One Comment

  1. WOW


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