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Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Illusion no.3 Murdered Consciousness

                Over the threadlike swarming sunlight, a voice ignite; a wave of morning fright
                Chilling in the shoreline, wiggling sight makes the soul show his fearful dread
                A rusty iron barrel creaks, pointed in cranium covered slimy gelatin of consciousness
                Mark a jolly Sunday in a beach of joy, contradicting as it appear; a vast terror trouble!
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                Poignant memoirs reached the dawn of the stereo sounding threat           
                 As a beastly image of bruised and painful life in an afternoon delight
                A feast of comrades in the grave of nothingness, birds did no chirping
                Instead, a requiem of thousand crows starts the agonizing wailing.
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                Requiescat in Pace! Trigger happy lunatic—a television star!
                Speaking with your own language will stupefy the meek
                A march of band of gypsies will devour media’s reign
                Rot in death! Bastard TV stars! As they will put you some reins!
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