Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Mentor in the Glass
Windows were so far between the seats that I thought nothing of them.Pictures of pitchers of water flooded my cameras shutter, I shuttered at the thought of cumming.again,but only when I came to the desert did I appreciate its grace.Frustration doomed me for miles,sickness of the camels laughter.I was angry,but I moved forward. Oasis after oasis,mirage after mirage,hell after heaven,marriage after daughters,my smile was so cloudy.Still,on the forest floor,I hurd the stampede crush my ear drums,trumpeting in the silence so loud and wild;down the red river in a basket into the open sea. Drinking snow and the dew off the mountain leaves,the horses now were the ones whos smile I could see,and I was devastated threw my whole mind and brain stem alike.Streams of conciseness were abundant downhill,I heard so many,so fast that the mirror inside of my eyes reflected my Iris and retina to the sun,burning whole the deep well of my sight.Blind and alone,scorn from the fall,bloodied from the battle,I stumbled threw the brush.Out of the forest,over rabbit holes and threw burroughs of druids and herbman of countless shamen voodoo witch doctors and their likes in the soul of their kin,traveling near to my heart,though not as the arrows the adorne my chest as goblets of armorment,destruction,war. I whore myself out for the good of the country,its god’s mistake I’m so vicious at killing. Valhalla is reachable without a paddle,but not a sword,and the spatter of guts is reasonable to my hobby,Im so lucky to be apart of your tourture,Its so sad to see you go.