The barking dogs run exhausted in the moors of loathing.
The sweat sliding through the soaked fur, reveals the frantic impulse of self-indulgence, and as floating naked lungs, my lady creeps from the valley to withstand the burns.
These forms of exudation disgust the little goddess hidden in the ivy, and the lions just enjoy the show while the gently unicorns pee over their ridiculous faces.
My dear friend, when are you accepting the plunge?
Distress of maneuvers performed by charites, assemble the chords of forgotten silences.
Run! Tiny piece of flesh your destiny is towards the path of the chameleon, but be careful not to drag the weeping lightness of the sound.
Keep Running! Excel from your ingenuity and use the savage torn pillows.
The barks get louder as the dogs keep coming!
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Now it’s too late dear lad. The wild Medusa has claimed another victim, another gameboy, another soul.
The sharp fangs pierce the delicate vertebrae of “BICHOS CONEJITO”, gutting away the viscera, and leaving the heart intact. Unfortunate philistine, you’ll never understand this words. And you’re the blame.
Neither the filigree otter could retract from the heinous sin you’ve committed stupid dog!
~To Saant~
