Thursday, July 3, 2014

Blank It Shares When The Station Identification Cuts Popcorn



I bellow to my Home in and of  a Locale so far from your able Vista that the Locks are held in Posed,
no Christian will brake to the admission of Killing for an Apple Carts rack by the Four Wheeled Scratch,
dead is their request in more the Christian has drowned and hung Millions to be drugged by Lies in framed,
the workings of the reed positions as reach with one hand and chopping-off the Head in it's Stead.

Broader issue to Sake of Beliefs is such a fallacy that Faith has been tossed to the scums as Mustard talks,
converts are the biggest laughter of the most insurmountable joke on the Planets Earth.

Indicative but certainly not good enough to compare for in each representation the natural form I reserve,
to define the interpretive I will use the correct vernacular to burn these points with hardened whips tipping.

Christians are the dirt in the filth of the sewage in the septic of a crypt as the place holds this say in descript,
defecation mixing urine with chemical break downs at least can fertilize the dusty muck of ash grounds,
with adequate time in the wash of an origins marsh it will reveal use to enable the dirt to growth,
the Christian is only a comparison in the deathly ends for their wish is for no work only the eats.

Appropriate for their fodder is the Mindful deceit perpetrated by the theft of the plenty to seed their Well,
a pocket full of dazy for chain linked caging to the alter of ego spits that cook the brains for liquiding,
buy into their title by converting life to a dollar value and the hide is their preset conditional debt to death.

Forbid this gross injustice to exactly what it has and alway was in every recorded measure of hester,
bloodied are the eyes of few whom have benefited in this do until of unless they are caught in public skews,
the imposition brought with a revealing to their constant sordid sexual burial of behind voiced stunned,
is merely a bump in their lives not even an inconvenience as the falling of an Angelic fig. is their embracement.

No rule for these fault lines gears to any other echo as the shadow to the spoken is the witness to the done,
to have the backing of the whippings with the Cats of Nine Tails the facts never Tell completes,
at the currency now running the Christian has been confronted with the end of times to explain in spine,
the real balance will be the provide of the Internet as the Web of Search and Discover.


  It All Just Goes White In A Hum