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| Scientia Colendorum Deorum by Major Organ 09/22/2022, 6:12pm PDT | ||||
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| Ethreal fumes wilter at the body
The Maid de' Orleans screams O' Phantomwise Your philosophy is bound. In flames. For trousers. All in prayer. Sheep sense the fulfilliment of their shank. Lambs who sleep under hollowed stairs. Blessed be the insipid. Where did the clank resonate? In who's starry tailed fingers were you inclined? Two questions are asked of you in relation to me. Her bones break. Her fractured crystalized serendipity shatters. She knows who you are. The accounting is done, now only storied Godesses glance over the phamphlets. I have been floated. I have been known. For stories. For tales. For treasties. Yet the Maid burns with her screams resonating on sulfuric flesh. In the face of your enemies, In the face of your doubt. In your abandonment. In your lonliness. In your own mortality... O' Maid de Orleans. Did you hold firm in your faith. Saint you're not. Yet firm did you stand. Yet firm did you die. |
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Scientia Colendorum Deorum by 09/22/2022, 6:12pm PDT  I LIEK VIDYA GAEMS!!! NT by 09/22/2022, 6:19pm PDT |
