Gwynplaine

Fresno, CA, USA

What words are there to describe the sound of radiance, emanations of delight from the gangrene incognito, buried no longer afore mine brotherhood be sullied. Sullen brick by sullen block, building up oneself to the end that I write to you now, hoping against hope that we drunk the befouled strike. STRIKE stricken against lightning itself, but who then will know better than I told you so? So what? Dread field the whirl ever scheming damned to over silent error era middle central valoury lost find themselves found when thrust cost frost lots felt delved emboldened by the current stiuation chose to sow the seeds but burn the trees on the sour ground sprung forth a bitter fruit the feast is no longer and the famine is upon us water the flods???? the ones who laugh loudly carried errie upon the aggressive winds and the gale wipes clean the soil til theres nothing left