The heat of the night...
Its quarter to be half of the night....and I am owling the nucturnal eerand. The diurnal cycle has almost done its formalaties while I craned my carcasses horizontally and sued my queen to Oblivion......the bitches are fighting their cases 36 feets deep while I withness the moon romancing clouds in the blue. Its a vulgarity of romance.......the filthiest innundoes of the maturing night......like the fermenting wine and ageing female....the olfactory pleasure and the lingual gratification........its the odyssey of a great charm and virility of the moment. And I stared the stars and gazed the moon. The amalgamating datkness in the moon lit space offered me a warmth of a virgin innocence. As I dared to rejoice on the pine niddles and the musical wind.......the delight of fluttering bamboo leaves, the whrildwind of dusty afternoon anf the dancing of fig leaves in the April wind. I lay pataplegically on the half tilled terrace, opiated by the auxin in the air and upping hormone.....I would stand any moment and shoot.....or I would dig my head and dream. It was then I rode finest stallion and walked the rouhest terrain........the centrifugal dispersion of luck was but evident and I caught the enigma for myself....
As the stars became brighter....As the heaven grew wiser....I grew up mellower......the concoction of growing efficacy and the impozsibilities of dreams hardened and baked my persona.......when the cloud lifted, I saw the butteries......the unquenchable thirst. When she flutter her wings.....the world dissolved in her charishma...when she flew she generated life within....that was then. The chasm of unknown....the abyess of infinity and the certinity of destiny.........participated from nothing....nonexistantia metaphysical diaspora........the nothingness in itself....
Its quarter to be half of the night....and I am owling the nucturnal eerand. The diurnal cycle has almost done its formalaties while I craned my carcasses horizontally and sued my queen to Oblivion......the bitches are fighting their cases 36 feets deep while I withness the moon romancing clouds in the blue. Its a vulgarity of romance.......the filthiest innundoes of the maturing night......like the fermenting wine and ageing female....the olfactory pleasure and the lingual gratification........its the odyssey of a great charm and virility of the moment. And I stared the stars and gazed the moon. The amalgamating datkness in the moon lit space offered me a warmth of a virgin innocence. As I dared to rejoice on the pine niddles and the musical wind.......the delight of fluttering bamboo leaves, the whrildwind of dusty afternoon anf the dancing of fig leaves in the April wind. I lay pataplegically on the half tilled terrace, opiated by the auxin in the air and upping hormone.....I would stand any moment and shoot.....or I would dig my head and dream. It was then I rode finest stallion and walked the rouhest terrain........the centrifugal dispersion of luck was but evident and I caught the enigma for myself....
As the stars became brighter....As the heaven grew wiser....I grew up mellower......the concoction of growing efficacy and the impozsibilities of dreams hardened and baked my persona.......when the cloud lifted, I saw the butteries......the unquenchable thirst. When she flutter her wings.....the world dissolved in her charishma...when she flew she generated life within....that was then. The chasm of unknown....the abyess of infinity and the certinity of destiny.........participated from nothing....nonexistantia metaphysical diaspora........the nothingness in itself....
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