The Universe is driven by the low and abiding utterance,
The sound sound of undecay,
The vital impermanence.
It is driven by the mammoth vocal chords of a Supercluster Dragon,
With wings of time,
And scales of dimension.
We make Him,
Along with his black ethereal consanguinity,
And ambiguliar coloration.
Aloft,
In unfleeting glide, for nothing flies,
With a cohort of many like entities.
Cannibals.
1 comment:
I suck coz I only appear to be able to think of one joke and one joke alone...
Why did the plane crash into the house????
COZ THE LANDING LIGHT WAS ON!!
Post a Comment