Songs from the Dead

Let's See

Through these chosen deaths they were trying even more towards the lights to keep seeing the primary night so alive that we can still see the only open score so enthralling that we can keep open things so delighted that the devils hunt for his skin was above all levels that it is nearly impossible to captivate his sin. To entice that much power is throttling for something so telling that we cannot even forever forget the ones with the power to see open scars to own the only lonely heart. Mine. Ivrine. 

"I cannot tell you how many times I tried to escape my own cage. It was so made of white pure snow, the trust of something so beatuiful that a part of me hoped to stay in this smallish cocoon. Before we can even make such assumptions we must now tell of something so disgraceful that we will be forever greatful for something of a none-death like state. That is never going to happen." I can sense he is struggling with all of this. Now he wants something from me. I know that is the cure, the case that everything I said was for nothing, a waste. A memory so telling that we can always still see the moon in its expectancy before they wanted to wander weary forever into the straying fields that beasts roam into.

Ivrine was still quite aware of all the emotions lingering. She wanted more whisky. More of the warm hot coffee that settles her throat into the pure existence that something was very real. Beneath our chosen ones we have too see the lights. Now that I have spoken much about my side of the story we can keep telling the secrets but without exposing most of it. 

"You've been exlcaiming more lately of disgrace than anyone I have ever known. Now that we can see the lights it was always the door that can keep its secret. A secret so alluring we were always going to see the same exact ending. Now? It is still possible to change everything but that takes time, strength, power. I have to connect for it to work. The prospect is surely written of the weary tragedies that we can become the equlavent of something so powerful that it looks like the network of trust was funneling into the graves with its soon to be sunlight beneath sunken graveling that we can still see the sun in primary midnight hours. Before we can see her face we must see Ivrine's wish.

"She's refusing her wish, sir." I can tell quickly who it was already without looking at them. It was her, Rena. Ivrine's little chosen one. She becomes the light while Ivrine is still numb with her own unknowing thought that has my own ending farther reached towards the passion of something else so grossly made. I could have told a million lies but the one thing that kept this world into further smiles, rejoices was the perfect lie. That Ivrine was in fact the light. 

Now and again we can declare the thoughts so forgotten that our year was forwarding through the greatest of empires that we can still see the ghosts made of white desires however unknowing it is we will always still see the revealing thoughts that has made it so calling that we can still see the gates of something so dangerous that we can always surely tell of her ransome desires before they were confinding into the only open door that keeps me coming back for more of the dangerous laughter ringing in my loud mind that keeps my insanity altogether more frightening then again we'll always be ever more respectful until the end of time.

"She's doing more than that, she's starting another war. One is good enough, let it die leave our people, or friends or families alone! I cannot even begin the journey unless she's gone. She's ruining everything. She won't even take her soulmate." Now we can securely assume that everything has been done in simplistic ways of things that has us throbing for the attention that can keep the mistake in highest rates as such thoughts were still hear for the after life whose been in enough endings of graves before the outcome has been on its trial. Now? It's the only time we ever have needed to see into the grave beyond. Accepting the fatal memories her moments in corroded illusion that can recall in its pleasing state forever that will always still stay a mystery. 

Bounding herself into the encasing cage was all but a weary dream but she's here. Yes, but her thoughts carries her there. It hasn't happened. Not yet. Her thoughts and actions will have to repeat once more in the state of her victors mind the one protecting her, Mr. Jarrow. We'll always still need her, miss Ivrine before they can tell of the good omens her harpening soul has been reliving through and through but now that her mystery is over with and Mr. Jarrow is still here for the time being it won't ever let it get done the wicked ways of the unsettling universe that has been tying us into the assumption that our memories are forever cherished. Inside such things whose been always of other satisfactory needs that we cannot even pull forth the misery unless directed otherwise. 

Mr. Jarrow. Needed promptly at the inquisition of something so secured that he must remember everything he had did, saw and said. "This girl?" He asks the manager of the nightmarish building as it feels like all the nightmares he had ever lived in. This bubble of blankets of unlocked nightmares behind each door, files of each soul/nightmare that it doesn't make him feel necessairly safe or fine even. Somethings were a joke. Others was for simply unneeded sick jokes. This? It has to be more than a sick joke combined. I fell heavily upon open minds this night and now all of this? Knowing another world without even having been inside it all the while being told that I always was inside its realms, its dimensions its people?