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Cabin boys, arise! Relinquish your Mighty Morphin' Power Pokémon kung-fu action figures and heed my cries! Get yours today, don't delay - two for five dollars at Bruce's Fun Castle, 1 mile north of the main highway. Fetch the compass and get my blackened cutlass too, son! We're on the move tonight! Reaping the twilight and stoking the dynamite, unfurl the imperial colors, for we are the last celestial sailors. Release the sandbag fetters, burn up those death threat letters, fearlessly onward to the infinite dawn we ride. Now alone in the skies, memories of my family flood over me, lucid flashes of my long soothspoken destiny. And as napalm funeral pyres of our decimated kingdom rise higher and higher, we're set on course to the neosyrian empire. Plumes of ash or billowing cloud, one can't objectively discern, artistic direction took a bad turn, oooh burn. So many strays, and I'm feeling dithered to the point of catatonia, I'm not dead just in a daze, pull the string to ring the bell, like something from our colonial days, sure as the sandworm races like Meatloaf the bat out of hell. Or try our new angus, 100 percent beef, you'll break out into 'too legit to quit' with no grief and you'll think wow, I'm Lovin' It. Our galleons of Arachis cut through the sky, they've never beheld anything like us before. Ready to die, we'll be the last thing they see when we bust through their chief citadel's fortress door. Untold peril and treachery await us in the outlying labyrinth of guile complexity, but iron our determination and undying our loyalty to the everlasting king of serenity ... Ok, what am I talking about, yo? Clip is empty, M16's outa ammo. Time to drop the mic and steer out, my fans are jeering, I'm losing clout. Forgive the Dune references, and please understand: I've sold out to the man with corporate-sponsored pop-cultures. I stare up, moon's blocked out by vultures, add me to your kills ravenous aviaries, I can't move I chose from the red pills, but they were just poisonous berries. Incorporated rhyme critique exotica. It's getting dark, I only wish Mordib was here with his death harmonica, he would use his superior weirding ways and bring me some donuts, extra glaze. Fix me, Morby! My vision is a haze, I'd gladly serve alongside the subterranean fremin the rest of my days, liberate me, or just get me a gig that pays. The dawg you feed once and always stays. You grow old and expire before the end of this prose. Betrayed by the nude spy atop the spire, I didn't choose your fate, you've already chose. Credentials in check, like a wrecking ball against ice my vulcan death-grip on your chicken-neck - M16 brandishes elite MC powers, flip the power switch atom bombs rain in showers, shattering your strongest towers. Bail out before you're toast, I don't need pliers I use the force to remove your dental fillings once you give up the ghost. One pawn shop later, I got my #5 with cheese and a coke. To your destruction I propose this toast: May your health always last and your wealth never be outclassed. That is, until I come to visit in the dead of night, for then will be your plight. Like a lucid nightmare I appear, you've never known such fright tied to a chair. But until then sleep tight my dear, and know that futile are your measures taken out of fear. Ssshhhhh, everything will soon be clear…
your oblique angles make your pieces. this would have been baring to look at with any other angle. same goes for your newer piece (with the girl). you have a very good feeling for composition.
Hah I found it!