Like Black flies, housing their lives within themselves, portable, probable, prompting a different fate.

Sliced silence portrays the mask of astounded souls. No-more belief is put into a cup-cake case, than I the world. I shall merrily accept my quest and quarry waiting for a moment to arrive, within such will appear the life I have never succumbed to live, for I abided by rules, I never used faith to understand-not for lack of trying. I will fall beneath this flowered bed beneath the sheets of which lie hidden secrets, beneath a truth that can never be toldburied within its billows. For I am a messanger sent from yourself to tell you; the terrible times to come.