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My dear Antarctica eminence, drifting on a frozen dewdrop how do you take your sugar? Is it prepared with pepper at its prominence? But for reason unknown nor circumstance that will not permit you it is claimed to be the death of you my liege, that there is no greater fear than the taste of what the unseen God would have you become, how it fills you with disgust that the sole reason for your creation…was an avatar for what could never be…a fool’s fantasy..
You are not essence you are an offspring, of shoot of at least in part, a bizarre metaphor presented in horror of your creators deepest introspections. Given the goal that “he” desired for “himself” that you have buried under a campaign of blind hatred, my dear Antarctica eminence if I would be so bold to claim…while it may kill you to take a sip of sweet natured is a poison best suited for you…one of acceptance..that would put an end to your troubled days… at last no longer would you float upon the frozen dewdrop…you shall be encased..within it…
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Submitted on
October 31, 2012
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