Time doth spake of yester tones, the advocation of thine devils breadth, linger to for’er nary a conundrum so vast a man’s eye hath thwarted vision unsurpassing it borders. Thither hence to squandered hope sitith the beleaguered porcine nature of mankind.
To whence morsels engrained in a miasma of drowning ember doth realise. The eternal visage of the enburdened wastelands tortured embodiment. Ist thou lacking of fortitude, doth he who faltered desire a prime oratory to seek the stars light on a hidden path passed Ill gotten judgments stern finger tips.
To be held by ageliscismic intention hast thine mired conclusions brought but empty consequence. So to doth a treatment of inward vision inspect no further clarity. Who hath for’er to bare such withered markings, the eclipsing of a darkened brow feel’st as cold as death’s Cheshire grin in the hearts of lesser men. Art thou lifes cruel fate to be undone by death, to have yet to start or finish but only a wasting of ones soul.
The fires lick as time then devours, an afeared man loost upon the chattered shores of his own purgatory. As the curtains drawn so heavy upon him, keeping his straying eyes from dreaming of a world beyond, So to doth from whence he came remain closed. How hath a man found such a confounding predicament. For truth Hast a man’s inert presence bloomed thist poisonous of fruits.
Lead me straying, seeketh thine omens of malcontents, be thy trusted cartographer of painted shadows of a way out. To taken steps I feast so kindly, through vanished breath I see it all. the last remnant of unguarded eyes, a phantom of an age forgotten by time.