uhanei it's dust... decoy.

why write more words if it's all been said?
oldephebe let dead echoes be reborn. to rise out of the black pit, the stygthian murk and take new shape, old laments in new mouths..burning tide of tears gushing out of this passion pyre...let it LET IT be. Let the tender time take hold of the old and new and let the cork screw be ground oh so deeply and deftly..purple symphonies of beethovian infinities pour OUT, pour OUT! upon the new, the reconstituted flesh and let it. (pause, oh yes, quite..a dramatic pause, please feel free to pour in your own grief and tantric sorrow into this lacunae...there..that's it! *smiles brightly*..) Let all the primordial muck of the misbegotten and unhonored things.let them howl, let THEM..HOWLLL!!
Taloned hand gnarled with grief reach into the prideful, obdurate nihilistic heart of modernity and teach them..reach them at their most pathetic and vulnerable and naked core and let every sad note sung into them bleed blackly into life again and writhe like newborn fire maggots out of them..let the endless train writhe out of them..and see how far, how so very far their proud pretty heads fall into their chests...

sorry guys, i'm in a bad mood...
what's it to you?
who go