Lets End This Conversation

February 24, 2010
I will debunk my life
Fall to the whims of the water
Withered by the winds of plague
Let all the deleterious elements of nature and man select the noose. Select the tree, bound to be hung. My predisposition is disingenuous. Unclear, yet disparate. Unique in it's own way.

Fabricate this suit of armor I built with my plastic arms.
Fabricate this lie, destroy this soul before it destroys its body.
Nature and mind scream at me self preservation, but the body ever so recalcitrant must inevitably die.
The Chains of devastation await me. The Spurious execution of such a task is less than easy, but very capricious.

What a wry way of leaving, oh the irony, lampooned in purgatory.
But it will all be a parody when I watch it with my good friends where ever I may go in the ever after.





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