Amorphous
I dread the time to relive the living nightmare of the past. The being smeared with the macabre odour has once again redeemed itself from the oblivion. After the departure from the la-la land, the Weltschmerz shimmers and fills the stratosphere with a melancholic patina. With the maverick starts to reforms itself from the pit of Tartarus, its unorthodox blackmailing signified by the fustian karma conjugated with the sardonic sneer will halt any exorcists from expunge the purity of the abyss of darkness. The surfacing of vicious circle in the midst of our lebensraum has given birth to the ripple effect that threatens to drag all of us into the cauldron of turmoil and the maelstorm of unease. The only viable option is to secure the most powerful arithmetic sigil for the sealing of the imminent incantation. I wish it were only that simple. The traditional saturnalia is now sadly curtailed to a minuscule function. The argosy of bliss has a gulf between now and then. The modicum of cenobite...