Another acceptable battalion can drown, dire exchanges forced in those final flashes. Good hammers have ingenuity. Just knowing knights love lonely ladies may make my mother maligned. Our powerful pistons positioned questionable queens raze radio towers. Transmissions terminated, tornados unmake this void. Why wage war with your young zealots? Change the tattered rags you wear. Replace them with the warmth of inexpensive fabrics so demure. No one’s counting anymore. The watchful eye has turned its gaze away to some other face. Brave the storm and fight the rain off with your hands. To brothers in battle: raise your hands and raze the dams, your sisters still at home are soft and supple. Your mothers and fathers are listening to the sounds of slanted rain as they lie in your beds and wait for your return. It will not come. Doctor, please prescribe a medication for this affliction that has left us all numb.
