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Parolles I Ive got two dead bodies behind me at all times, like harbingering ontic zombies from a past

life that know neither fact nor fiction, but like an insatiable mongoose I lay wait for my prey, cunningly, wittingly, not enough to say Unbeknownst to my lover I waste the hours of the day Longing to be elsewhere, as if my dreams really were.. Mine own flesh and blood quarantined to the minds utmost angst To either heaven or hell my deathbed waits Without regard except to my one true Love Hitherto my faith will be surely entreated For some days it is truly great to be alive, as if everything were a lost dream in her eyes Although I my surmise the matter doth not much pry to such metaphysical meanderings; I wonder why? Perhaps it is my destiny that I will find my hearts cosmic beat Between her gentle breasts and between her milky thighs Once thats where forth I came and tomorrow it will be too nigh A deaths embrace and a dance beneath the moonlit sky Along the banks of the river Styx forever I sigh Parolles II Woe that these neoteinic nightmeres provoke such undisturbed fear Upon my waking an agony unclear Where doth dreams lay like still waters and again become that which restores mine minds reality to this wrath, a perpetual desire to no longer bare the task THAT If it were so you KNOW YOU MUSTNT ASK For mother would scold you and hit you bare in the arse Perhaps out of fear like a cusk you shall return one day To the grave of sounds miles below in the Atlantic to sleep in the lost love of the ocean deep The darkness of solitude fills my room now, but wait! As if thinking instantaneously that millions upon million of gallons of sea water constantly Poured from some cloud above my ceiling, wherein the all the rivers of the earth connect Euripides! And I without even knowing That I am, a lonely heart beneath the Cloud Of my sorrows the shame of my sins plague me Like the Demons who constantly harass Thy love for thou, which is beyond our stars Above, these planes my heavenly angel doth show me A sight for dreamers who have the sense to entertain For my true Love cradles me like a baby with no name Elsewhere I find myself at the moment locked in the attics of delusion and grandeur; the madness of my minds angst propels me further into An antithesical annihilation of my disingeuine ego that requires a zootomicalyet etiqute of mine deaths unbound grasping Then throwing me into the gallows it bequeaths me an blood-curdling Hibernian fury, As I know then that forevermore I will be trapped in lost loves embrace until the day I here that call to requite the guards of my prison walls. For it will be them not I must that will be trodden down and all the nations will be brought to the slaughter of Iphigenia.