Our neon eyes have laser precison. We
probe into the windows of our souls.
A flood of images, dreams and memories,
pours through our thoughts.
And here I thought I was Chaos.
And here you thought you were Order.
Speak and Spell
these alterations
in the voice of the
Judge of Change.
The body is covered in dunes.
An oasis is beyond our hope.
Material Wealth is what we are made of.
[23:30|15.8.011] ©c.thomas.carter
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