In the beginning, darkness dwells, Stormy nights, my thoughts it compels, Infectious staph, paragraphs take flight, A hidden show of volcanic light.
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I feel sorry for you, My Friend. So much energy not being channelised properly or utilised in a constructive manner. There is so much promise in what you are writing. Thanks, April H.
.... pictures of light hidden in the ashes of my volcanos.... deadly tornadoes
.... cyclone that rises within in me.... blizzards of darkness.... bolts of lighting
.... but I will not bend the end for you.
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I feel sorry for you, My Friend. So much energy not being channelised properly or utilised in a constructive manner. There is so much promise in what you are writing. Thanks, April H. .... pictures of light hidden in the ashes of my volcanos.... deadly tornadoes .... cyclone that rises within in me.... blizzards of darkness.... bolts of lighting .... but I will not bend the end for you.