Look, there goes Colossus…by G. Mramor

: look, there goes Colossus, climbing your hill astride the sunfall, flakes of skin burning off into a dirvish spray as you mount the burning black slope, the blood boiling spurting out your eyes and wiping down, your tarred cage rambling to the dying sun, the rattle of the temple croning out throeing out as time frays out into the mad murder gathering above the burning-out orb, and that he has no words left for you dear brother that in silence he mounts his departure watching you as you go farther into death that dear brother you shall go forgotten,  and you go on slothing through the rubbling and dusting remnants that resemble no man, those old drapes you wore that once were another’s, a worm hart up the broiling hill, to find aloft upon the apogee the summit of you, and raised by your slime to worm up for the blackness in the firm devouring, and speak me to the world, and they all say: look, there goes Colossus once again

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