While I still be

The watchmaker is dead cause time has gone rouge and reckless; that wayward rowdy rascal has become increasingly erratic. The senselessness of a soldier determined to defend the soil, of a soulless geographical entity that has entirely been soiled. The absoluteness of sin has long been strongly disputed, as have the tenets of morality been affirmed to be relative. The fundamentals of society are overwhelmingly utilitarian, but let it burn as the majority and minority are marginalized alike.

And I didnt remember to remember to forget, so I guess I remembered now my memory regrets. Cast in the shadows of dungeons and cast lots, shackled by the panic of a loose and twisted plot. The verdict for a real and virtual vixen raises controversy as to what exactly constitutes a victim. Aspirations saddled on the assurances of criminals, dreams largely contingent on the commandeer of other people’s money. It’s cold, dark and sunny. I am probably the most self enlightened dummy. Images completely informed by the reflections of smoking mirrors, in total spite of the smoking barrel I completely deny that I pulled the trigger.

I am the green man’s apology; a catastrophic controversy; perhaps in the temple I could be all the Buddha hoped to be. Perfection of my perception with the acquisition of the sixth sense, conceivably my rationality will finalize my isolation. Yet I’m burdened with the burdens of the cross and a crescent, reciting biblical scriptures in defense of the glock. Following the fundamentals of the findings of ambiguity, I am a compromised concept. A catch without a 22.