i wanna hear you calling my name, like hey mama!
RICH KID ASSHOLE PAINT ME AS A VILLAIN
validated, in her own heinous way and her immoral sense of self preservation made this narcotic deprived damsel a little off set due to the fact that she was noxious in the lands of alacritia. her sinful zephyr acid swept through the cracks of the breeze current as it carried distasteful redolence's. the totem of a goliath strained her muscle fractions in an upright position so that she was able to stretch the stiffness that rendered her muscles numb. seclusion's assets were pressed against the bark of a tree, mindlessly staring out into the chasm of endless factions of woodland foundations. everywhere she looked she was shrouded in mother nature's misery, in fact she could barely hear the wails and weeping melodies of creatures dying to the sound of death playing his trumpet - she felt intoxicated by the crushing of bones that could be heard from miles out.
fatality was like ghosts in the snow, choked by their own abominations and precautions whilst the woman's persecution was her valor to such monstrosities and the frigid lass was no stranger to violence. she's seen things, terrible things, some that were executed by her own wrath and vanity. her avarice was presumptuous, albeit betwixt her raging demons she could feel her inner goddess -- asking for forgiveness at the stature of the roman gods. the forsaken burdens and tragedies that the feminine has buried deep within the core are shackles more so than armor, therefore she renders her metallic plates to sunder and her very essence was caked in blood, death and betrayal -- the aroma of a rotten corpus plummeting down upon her. no formality, no redemption and surely no subtle reincarnation with herself let alone the beast inside whom rages beneath the cloak of a carnivore queen; only coming out when it's puppet master deems suitable for it's climatic chaos.
such a beautiful monster, all draped in ravishing muscles yet tainted with choleric cataclysm.