Back away or bother? There lies the question, the answer a needle in a haystack hardened like a new
.corpse in Canaan that passed into dust whilst seeking sweet forgiveness on a splinter for winter came too fast, that cold arctic blast but why must the cold caress the Crusader when hell hath no honeysuckle that sweet dripping daylight turns into darkness thicker than clouds in a cottony candy lane like a labyrinth laid in lilies we feast on the sorrow of a thousand wrinkles in time on a dime, grey matter screams with decisions much fatter than fascination or any imagination could muster even under the moonlight to... back away or bother.
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