Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Azathoth

Alligator tears in broken mirror upon a lost land; wrong.  Never together still never apart with some strange rift of self or potential.  Gather up words and wonder of fragile fibs I told myself I could be.  Thus not you nor even me and certainly never we. If to release you from dream to sail your own finer seas.  No more nights nonesuch bright waking to morns' sepulchre skies tall and grim.

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