Well It is barbaric. A hum drowning out the chattering lakeshore. Unwanted penetration and a mechanized din. A tower shining like a false moon through the trees we planted. God, whose Son was stripped and savaged, Feels the lash in a piney corner of nowhere. Clean Surely God cannot be
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Well It is barbaric. A hum drowning out the chattering lakeshore. Unwanted penetration and a mechanized din. A tower shining like a
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