Written in the Ancient Runes , the password
to the curse of happiness.
Nature strikes the Burning Lamp, filled
with Liquid Death.
The Lunatic Is Not Real.
The lunch-critters are quivering
with fear. The too-phantom
bites into them with ease and pleasure.
Satisfied, she crawls back into his ear.
Defend the head that aches. Chew the
capsules and relax, as you slowly
fade into the BIG SLEEP.
The little tin-drum, serves the maniac
that holds the little tin-can.