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Description
"Never the less... thou ask? {Upon thus would then a grave be cast, and to such a blade a noble define?} I laugh... Is it not after all this meanwhile's a sacred duty to regents to as tyrants serve despotation to they'st people? You avoid my sight carving eyes in the lac'd shadow of statues in the chestbut carved walls...{I wish not to have it..} but in disregard to thy gesticulated of trembling shadow do not you see the abject stone? I'll refresh such a pale boring tale... a first enclausure of lids then a petrefication o'ev'ry muscle and bone, serenitude falls as millennia thee's muscle as stone, thee's blood as a irrigated marble, thy rain erodes unidentifies and blurs features, this crystalization inside of blood such pain, an ego shatters as a fairytale... and what is left yet after all dust is blown but this a stranger memory... you.{How I abhour such a habit of yours..Alas still you fancy it displaying uncourteously in ev´ry bow and grace thee'st urge momment, thee'st urge compale of thy tongue} However redundating it to be you know it to be futile...so much affection for a small time, an illusion."

A chat between old entities copyrighted to me book .All comments and criticizings are welcomed

Description
"Never the less... thou ask? {Upon thus would then a grave be cast, and to such a blade a noble define?} I laugh... Is it not after all this meanwhile's a sacred duty to regents to as tyrants serve despotation to they'st people? You avoid my sight carving eyes in the lac'd shadow of statues in the chestbut carved walls...{I wish not to have it..} but in disregard to thy gesticulated of trembling shadow do not you see the abject stone? I'll refresh such a pale boring tale... a first enclausure of lids then a petrefication o'ev'ry muscle and bone, serenitude falls as millennia thee's muscle as stone, thee's blood as a irrigated marble, thy rain erodes unidentifies and blurs features, this crystalization inside of blood such pain, an ego shatters as a fairytale... and what is left yet after all dust is blown but this a stranger memory... you.{How I abhour such a habit of yours..Alas still you fancy it displaying uncourteously in ev´ry bow and grace thee'st urge momment, thee'st urge compale of thy tongue} However redundating it to be you know it to be futile...so much affection for a small time, an illusion."

A chat between old entities copyrighted to me book .All comments and criticizings are welcomed