joe_t_17

silent winds elude the leaves as the furnace burns wild the straw grassy waves. The "knowing who we are" is gone. Primordial simplicity calls to our senses. Fallen from the chain of command, we lay twisted and Hemorrhaging. To play the fool for the first time in a while. The horizon smiles at our disrepute. A sentence to justly be served. The absolution of the ego, a blessing and a curse. The concepts of right and wrong are once again lured into their cages of worthlessness. In the world of ultra violence, nothing is personal. So don't cry for yourself. For the hunter commands respect, as she knows she will be your equal.