Thursday, September 03, 2009
Death of the Eagle
In the face of all these joys I will transcend today. Beyond the meaningless you imply with meaning I will transcend. Birthed of wings and dreams I will chase over the sea. Upon the land in elegant feline machines steeped in avarice. I will transcend the conquered mountains that lay at my feet. As my blood washes seventeen clean I will transcend.
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