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Iceile (standard:Psychological fiction, 300 words) | |||
Author: Leif Tanner | Added: Mar 19 2009 | Views/Reads: 3647/0 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A sequal, yet independent story to "Flash" | |||
Definitely run. Run run run. Seeing through time. Staying in mole hills. Watching pipeline organs. Become olympic gold medalists. Through the haze. On the heels. Of my. Chest.going to Switzerland. Holding girls tight.breathing life. Into the earth.smoke one down. Go go go. Into bliss. Surfing on a rocket train. Pour in the symphony. Cannot stop the madness. Fucked up grannies. Sitting on empty. Seeing plasticine soldiers. Reciprocate decades old comflicts. Technological air.breaking the sound. Barrier. Resolution supreme. Running for cover. Casting fleeting ideas. While hunkering in the world from despair. Call. The gloating fools. Into your presence. Glass blowing obsession. Momentary loss of the hooked on sadness. Not looking up. So light held. Be true in the sky. As heaven and hell. Unleash their masses. Waking tomorrow. To be cast in the sea. While an icey smile appears. The winds blowing the fires of hell. Immitation draughts. Brandishing labelled brands. Drilling your head. Waiting for the. Electronic performers. To begin. Through the living soul. How does it make you feel. While on this planet. Daily affairs are a repetitive addiction. Grinning from above. The smoker's moon. This normality bearings. The markings. Close to the truth. Waves crashing over rocks. An emotionless world. Throwing carbonated aluminium like frisbees. Into the air. Dancing mambo. Stereo hits gone. Combating silence. To the beat. Of the drum. Love snippets of becoming. We're requesting years. Marking the place. In our trash-pile of the world. Never constant. One. Pair symbolism. Humming a talkative tune. Yeah. Where it doesn't end. Flicking grains of truth. Sounding the call. Stereophonic art moves. Paranoid tranquility. Intervention. Run down. Bubble surprise. Run run run. Go twilight. Descending. We are. Existing in time. It's helping blood. To fall in concreted stains. Biological test tubes. We need dna. This way. © Leif Tanner Tweet
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