Bleeding fast though melancholy as the ticking of the cogs and gears turn with such order only the stars can compare to. Oh how the hollow howls of shifting planes squander the precious silence within the depths of my abstruse mind while demonstrating the very principles of gravity. To understand is a privilege from one sentient being to another, although the tension between positive and negative provokes a preliminary ego which travels down a hidden, subconscious path. A religious sanctuary, bound and gagged for the sake of protection, now free to wander as a preeminent chaos. Upon the moment of meeting ones maker, I will never pray for you, but I will watch over you as a spirit of homage.
-Eric R. Innes.
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