Just before dawn. The Great Man gives heads to crowns of gold. Placing each severed head onto the mantle, gently returning the golden crowns to the fresh heads. Scabs so thick, he was found worthy to sit on the throne. Opened eyed heads modeling the crowns of his ancestors over the great fireplace. A red brick oven. sackcloth full of eyes to pouch before they celebrate. The eyes of the enemy to bring his people victory. See what they see, and plan the next attack. The crops waved lush and tall and green. The people roamed up and down the dusk streets wearing human hair jackets taken from the heads sent back of conquered enemies. Season to worship devils. The new machine claps with him.
Peoples shutter at These things thy watch. The stench of shit as bodies are opened. A festival of hate and victorious gore. I will be in the midst of them but in a latex Light skin. Eyes bright in things ahead planned. Leave his castle a blackened ruin, drag parade his body for all his loyal to see. I have rows on rows of scarecrows ready to be ignited with life.
Open the book,and them that dwell upon their festering looks are doused with coconut venom. This church perches on the hill to give your back what your worth, maybe kill you. Big are these customs in the leaves. I woke up all the seven Spirits of Nyarlathotep and then I went, rest vanished. My suntan ravaged. I don't accept or deny the most beautiful diseased grant to sit with and all full of pus sitting cross-legged in the payday loans personal lot now. I was woken from my napping by the sound of one hand clapping. Brisk gallons poured for the elders to see. Sharp, brisk puss warmly oozing like an offer ring to all of us. I lost track of all the times I would rather be somewhere else. Under His Ranch is a chaotic underground with endless Dead ends. The soldiers cried as Looking for Safety naked.
But deep our explosive shame was assisted by his lovely merkin. When we unite and accuse him of the wrongs he has done, he drops his pants, flashes us his lovely merkin. Black the small hours his jaws throb with pain eyes on the Cards in us mourn our nipples We like lacks. His collective spit on all our nipples as a result of us turning in our pistols. But when his merkin dance, it hypnotize. Foil flag waves at me. Lights in the skies Great alarm is clocking thee. Useless as butter burning. Merciless as someone with a different religious faith than yours. Great hovering mollusks above Him that overcometh. Redeemed into giggling. Laughing and in shutteth, and no man reclaims the throne. Throne is mollusks alone and all Man is bone. But the skulls rattle in the wind and we call that a vote.
Behold, I stand across sickle curve of elite priests who art dead. Be watchful, and the graveyard. The neighborhood autumn hands. Dyed several hands dangling from trees, swaying in the breeze.The word of my true witness, of the church in the webs. Tonight we put a Man into the ground, but he will come out as black cheese. Howls of delight and mulberry wine. The key magical powers. An old Shaman makes tons of Dreamcheese. The is to be a cloud in your cup. Windy Night in a cornfield. Children running with burning branches plucked from the bonfire. Naked painted bodies whirl around the fire to the percussion sounds of hand struck farm implements. The window acts as an aphrodisiac and genitals be in thy mouth. Woke up covered in fingers. Groping nomads leaning in the window all lean and oily. Incense of vaporised sexual oils.
The black Moon over Great owls in the golden forest. I've reconstructed the feather. Glued back every thread, it's ready to go. Climb a tree and try my wings.