Sui Generis

Passageway of saint, dampen core, sans livid twist. Entrance of arctic rain, popping mirror, down in pain. It would never be the same, immovable gallantry for fantasy reverie. A chimera for you, not for me.

Whirling dust, contiguous thriller. Trapping speckles of ominous yesteryear. How long would a desire takes me? Thirst for euphoric moments. Glowing cosmos, raining rainbows, merrily heavenly, et all. Trolling a figment of perfidious palsy walsy. Toast of harrumph. Entwined with dazzling mystifying mystical, of God given.

Belligerent is the nucleus in me. I will go in this way, and i will find own my way out. Skirmishing to the last saint.

Archangel, this is not a pompous dream.

Please.