Guest guest Posted March 26, 2002 Report Share Posted March 26, 2002 Smoke, rivers stalagmites of bullets shear gunpowder flesh whisps fragments of memory, faded like blue-jeans. Conquer terrain with rugged leather-like mentality on whiskey and horses murders… murderers… murders… Feathered scalp drips under thunder. A broken rainbow betrays. There's blood in the soil. murders… murderers… murders… Gone quiet calm slaughtered religion lies dormant with reservation for generations then peeks out hungover from history given casinos to forget. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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