Random Thoughts...Trying to find my rhymes in midst of chaos,the words conspiring against my will,with little to add to this stilt,lemme get on to the towering hill,do you ever question the fact,have you ever fought the fight itself?Broken thoughts, crypted with the dead ones.stories, heroes, lies, manipulations, time,reality, present, god, beggar, hippopotamus,Die won't you?there are things you can't hack,beliefs that are not true,shimmering(s) that are water,things out of your reasoning,but still in your grasp,no easy way to end this quest,a bubble from the marsh,a wormhole in the vast,so here is my din,why don't you die
The Artist...Fingers moved fast, thousand thoughts came at light speed and vanished faster, a writer thou shall be, the prophecy had fore-claimed, another seer has prophesied an artist, yet he wished to be none. Rey Librean had died a thousand times, if dying was what they believed to be. But still he lived as before. The blood raced his veins; however hard he tried, he couldn't cast into darkness those flaming fires. They climbed the stairs, broke through vaults and burned him inside out. But there was not much he could do. Every step he had taken had been wrong, a hastened leap ... Often he found himself in an strange situation, but he loved that ... he
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