axl

Confused and gone. Lost in the translation of sanity. The muse has ridden me. The warmth has shunned me. Caged and crying is the dog in the corner. Laxidazical and sitting high is the king on his paramount throne. have you no thought? have you no curtousy? Or fom the skys are you blind to the ants below you. Restless is the king. Withered is the dog. Listen to the musical standings of his cries for thet tell a story, and also lies. See the king way up high? ignore the ignorance of a nauve i the new world order. Back to the bottom, the sheets of silk. Layed tangled and longing. Sraight out of the havings of a story book.