within_this_chasm_of_nothing raze poor men just bag memories. given the walk they're having, what's left? some thick blanket of sound engulfs and emboldens me. i would like it to go away. the gods, awash in gifts otherworldly, take life when alabaster and steel go on. demons are my virtue now. i watch them float on by. 260407 what's it to you? who go blather from