hrRY's- - plyGrouNd
Epoch-version-dateline = YearZerO|1.17|19.a.7e0. - (new-ver=index,A)
time to go a-fishin' for the subject of your choice...
read me in the dark, use an encryped link, use someone else's internet account, use a hot-spot.
I am not he, nor master nor lord. No crown to wear, no cross to bear in stations. I am not he nor shall be, warlord of nations. These heroes
have run before me, now dead upon the flesh pile see? Waiting for their promised ressurection. There is none, nothing but the marker, crown,
or cross in stone upon these graves. Promise of the ribbon was all it took, where only the strap would leave it's mark upon these slaves.
What flag to thrust into this flesh, rag bandage mop in their flowing death. Taken aside, they were pointed away for god queen and country,
now in silence they lie. They ran beside these masters, children of sorrow, as slaves to that trilogy, they had no future. They believed in
democracy, freedom of speech, yet dead on the flesh piles I hear no breath I hear no hope, no whisper of faith from those that have died for
some other's privalage. Out from your palaces princes and queens. Out from your churches you clergy you christs. I'll neither live nor die for
your dreams. I'll make no subscription to your paradise.