jeremy-jones Jeremy Jones

A look into the manic, depraved mind of a schitzophrenic Renaissance within perceptual ambiance and horror. A quiet repertoire of screams into the void of the chasms abyss dawning darkness like rancid foul nectar for the virally inflicted peasantry. A plight unto the gods/Gods of this temporal shell. The mortal dust, feigning awareness within an apocalyptic deism of affliction. Our tragic warrior breathes in absolution as a deathly pallor to awaken the spirits designing. Woe to the reader for his heart shall be forever awakened, scarred by the tenets of virtuous depth coupled beside inanimate horrors describing as an abstracted voyeur questioning God's reality I am seen and unseen. I am heard and unfeeling. The warrior, a mental psychè already charred, gazing too fondly at the abyss. In scope is the comparison of fear as tragedy strikes us all beneath benevolence and apathy.


Postapokalyptisches Alles öffentlich.

#apocalyptic #dead #war #demons #gods #kingdoms #pain #existential #humanity #world #hope #inspired #viral #tragic #players #identity #cursed #melody #misery #delusional # #manic #fragile #dissociative #schitzophrenic #deism #plight #discreet #blossoming #advocate
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Faith

Faith follows fragile

forever seeking another

fragile memory to awake

in all the consequential

rhetorically embellished thought ...

Something, being, entity,

living spirit believes in me

Something Powerful, Peaceful, stable belief to consume.

Whether withered blooming or opening another chasm inside my soul ...

Aligning turning misery to bewildered love and temptuous morsel sweet not alight in flight shooting at my heart telling me to soar.

Heights captivating and I leave it to God's love and hopeful spirit evermore above my own being to direct - whatever life that I've been blessed to live.

Dead End: reiterate the beauty enhanced solutions for an ever changing market while none of the executive orders thus far preceding another rare miss where my life jumps off the grid - pages, years, reinvigorate the mind. Climb to the shadows before I knew I loved you - believed in you! My true heart ❤️

Cold, refreshing fear blooming madness growing tendrils deep beneath my flesh pulling at my heart and mind again ....

Whatever is out there so evil and panged cleverly plotting away .... no destruction working into each moment your decay like it was your last twisted memory.

Trust like this can't be real

Choose your sadness to wear as a cloak to shadow the abscess impression fear imposes upon my ascension.

Everyone loses hope sometimes and we miss out on a living breathing world that until I have an equal footing then I cannot connect with it.

Are you Ready? I have no one beside my muse. I plug into the worldwide web and bring enlightenment however bounded the illumination is or should be. I'll let the world know of your death on the way to destroy existence. They must hear God's plea for humanity. We have less than 100 years, blot out humanity's transgressions one evil dead sin at a time and person - soul between Heaven and Hell rotting - let the world know.

Should have lived to not be tired and redeem the forest from the crypt keeper ... gold

I do like to feel anything but remorse not really twisted gifted resonance to ideal showers plague imagery saved blessed winters warmth as to sing a creepy pneumatic. Climbing conscience divulging infinite realms and worlds, parallels to see and sense. Realism to surreal bleeds twists with fate clever little chants loving pain- eating misery lost, untalented drifting into the intricate and most just seem alive. Almost everyone died. There is no pallor speaking for me inspired. The Misery chanting, no breath mapping the course, fate in Heavens curse.

So live errant to the darkness lost in your sins.

Fondling my plight admirably intoxicating to the untrained locust tremendous taunting resurrection dripping gnashing sweet souls suffer chasms mapping — gives the Scarlet appeal so fashioned with love, hope, peace, and transcendence. The mortal pining to design a better land, a better time, a better life than inspiration before the cosmic Throne of sickness. Torrential plight for narrow hands stinging in truth, my heart aches lovingly gazing in mercy.

I am bound to show the way for our lands — bestowed much with eyes to share visions and dimes.

Intro to infinite worlds

Most shine for Glory not to be undone for death has won and no one cares.

I am eternal.

Please excuse the intrusion upon the ordination to incur wrath.

No mercy for the pestilence peasant.





2. Oktober 2023 01:33 0 Bericht Einbetten Follow einer Story
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