Cerpin taxt stood high above the wobbling miscarriage of oncoming traffic, he was weak in the knees. Blackened out of synch knew his time here would soon end with an internal hemorrhaging made aware by the animonstrosity of his frankenstatue presence. No longer would he carry on his shoulders the weight of passion. No where were his next of kin to be found. Automotive surges spilled through the veins below him.
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Next skip Cerpin taxt stood high above the wobbling miscarriage of oncoming traffic, he was weak in the knees. Blackened out of synch knew his time here would soon end with an internal hemorrhaging made aware by the animonstrosity of his frankenstatue presence.
No longer would he carry on his shoulders the weight of passion. No where were his next of kin to be found. Automotive surges spilled through the veins below him. Was this the only passage that he could find? His jaws jingled with cold studdering, his stomach bulged midmetamorphosis, grumbling knot belches,too nervous to look down into the inviting concrete collision.
He served himself no other choice. Between two mountains that claimed some half assed biblical truth, Cerpin knew better, as it had been etcha-sketched with the branding of a caveat emptor,scarlett with with rheumatic shakes.
The rail that adorned the top of the bridge pulsated a cape of winced shut on looking. Cars drove past in amazement A few miles up the street, the band played on.
Springs coiled tightly in the tendons of his legs His tears smoldered into the afternoon air, no one could stop this now. He wondered in flashback stanzas, omitted from this reality, his body took form Waiting for the opportunity, wilting in sin Slicing of one last breath, sparking diamonds in the headlights, forever stained in maroon stamps. Cerpin had always been a little overly possessed by his chimerical scribblings.
Between lunch breaks and during class, maybe even in his sleep you would find him drawing neo-cultures, diseased and grotesque. That was the portal he created, getting dirty in the nails, small hairs yanked always a canvas moment waiting in the wings. This served its purpose well, as he was malnourished without the outlet. So vividly they spoke to him, committed to its paper. He never noticed if anyone else could hear them too
Deloused in the Comatorium Storybook - Info/Possibly selling
Galar It combusts on both technical and emotional levels, each feeding the other. That said, he leads you into this strange, dark world that I thoroughly enjoyed, partially because this is the story that inspired the album. There storybkok very slight edge wear from careful handling and a very small about half an inch tear on the right side of the cover page. There music is based in listening to the fine-tuning and creative meanderings of the other musicians, which is a colorful contrast to the decibel levels of their work. Only the persistent, hardcore fans who wrote the record label eventually received this book which makes it hard to find and harder to purchase from anyone who got one.
DELOUSED STORYBOOK PDF
Prog noodles, prog brags, prog serves as the backdrop for stories about moonchildren and crimson kings and bloodthirsty sea life. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Catherine added it Jul 21, This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Want to Read saving….