the thoughts of saTan

Clouds are only for angels   The man ponders chance The blade flashes away into darkness Blades and hockey-sticks, A Cash 'n' Carry death.

The unknown creator, Creates, unknowing. Chaos always wins, The narrator is a fake

Madam, 6/6/1666

He was bairlie out of cradle
And was yet fulle as man or beafte can be…

I am the moment before the word, no.

Rising from the bottom of a pit, Nicholas.

[top]