I shall go forth unresponsive to care, yet mindful of the dim lights within the cesspool of despair, for fools who lay among us in silent descent, castration is the celebration of the willful now spent.


The hopeless Heedless! before degradation manipulative! are their motives let’s try segregation, yes! it’s fear of the weary hostility severed cold, the indignity of many in the shine of fools gold


They could barely hear their hysterical cries, they seemed more irritated by those buzzing flies, principled UN purposeful, powerful not merciful, youthful is woeful, our survival is doubtful.

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