Confuse The Next Poster
- Thread starter Strife
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1f u c4n r34d th1s u r34lly n33d t0 g37 l41d.
QuickSilverD
I Think... Therefore You Are
lol ramdoness lol
Nothing exists, and if it would exists then it could not be known, and if it could be known then it could not be explained nor communicated to others ~ Gorgias
lol, I need to get laid
Nothing exists, and if it would exists then it could not be known, and if it could be known then it could not be explained nor communicated to others ~ Gorgias
lol, I need to get laid
Zexion_01
Hardcore Hero
e held hands on the last night on earth.
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees,
screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated
along the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea
and the shattered seasons lay,
and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes
of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn
as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked
if you would accompany me in a quick fall,
but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two.
I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.
Of blue and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon
and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched
into the earth like a message.
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees,
screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated
along the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea
and the shattered seasons lay,
and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes
of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn
as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked
if you would accompany me in a quick fall,
but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two.
I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.
Of blue and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon
and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched
into the earth like a message.
Mason
Final Fantasy Freak
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers
Where is the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.
She sells seashells on the sea shore
If she sells seashells on the sea shore
Where are the seashells she sells on the seashore.
A pick up truck picks up pick up trucks
If a pick up truck picks up pick up trucks
Where are the pick up trucks that the pick up truck picks up.
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers
Where is the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.
She sells seashells on the sea shore
If she sells seashells on the sea shore
Where are the seashells she sells on the seashore.
A pick up truck picks up pick up trucks
If a pick up truck picks up pick up trucks
Where are the pick up trucks that the pick up truck picks up.
Fran
Post like you mean it!
Fran
Lead Bullets Don't Spark!
Lead Bullets Don't Spark!
this thread is all a figment of your imagination
i am your mother!
i am your grandpa
i am your grandmother
i am your cheese grater
I'm glad this has finally moved. But that's only because if this thread wasn't moved then my future self (who's currently trapped on 14th century Mars) wouldn't be able to gather enough people to eat the Hole Gate of Strathon before the next time fluxuation. Which is due to happen three days ago. I would like the next poster to explain why.
because doctor who says so