Logistically Backwards

logistically backwards and introverted sarcastic raindrops fall into the wishing you well. Hope plans for failure and malnourished hens lay chocolate covered eggs; yoke less and full of bitter herbs. The breath of ghosts fog windows smeared with quiet desperation. Sitting in solitude, I become Brother to the endless hoards of Locusts. Devouring the fertile vegetation growing through the pain of a universal rebirth. throne-less and no kingdom to call my own, I wander through neurons wondering What will become of this monstrosity? Cartoon punctuation marks your active processed existence. There is a large hole in the fiber of your palette. The void is to be filled with 15 or so glass marble staircases. Plurality is my armor.