|
Post by <=|iorec|=> on May 16, 2006 19:12:28 GMT -5
Corded lengths carried the elegant, yet stone chiseled drake from the misted, boughed timbers of his own harlem, Bleary Basins. Scythes bore unto the carpentry with suave silence, leaving naught but jagged crescents strewn 'cross the geo in his wake, as proof of his passing. Deep carbon omitted his caverns, visible as billowing clouds, which thrived opaque, and soon after dissipated into the chilled atmos. Obsidian, yet welcoming gaze cast forth out unto the scape, to observe keenly, all of the wonderous doves strewn 'cross the loam. Twin auditorial pieces rested not entirely abroad, but not entirely pasted to his skullet, morely in the medium, as it were. The smogged spheres of the young brujen scowered eagrely, yet, the brute did well to conceal this emotion. He merely stood atop a lift in the sod, majestic hide stretched atop layers of corded muscular tissue, ashen tendrils cast down in sheets to his hunches. A dove was to be saught as his queen this day, to stand aside as his equal at Bleary Basins, a fellow neutral ess who wouldst perhaps enjoy the scape over which he ruled. Finely chiseled skullet notioned about, following both gaze and intuition, 'round the host of beuty into which it looked.
|
|