And like that, he stood up and watched all eyes turned to him. Intimidated by the stares, he tried to create leeway through the crowd. The squishing got tighter by each movement. His suit was painted in red attracting those without colors to him.
He had to find another place, he thought. As he went into solace, he found the new sound, music it was, but unfamiliar; the birth of a new muse. The speculation was that the man in red had returned from the unknown. He had been elevated by the new muse to above and beyond plain ground.
The element had been made and a name was required. The power to create a space, a world, a lane, or a chassis is there for all to grasp. Still do what you think of. This is not a message from the hungry pulpit. The driven make those who taste bitter cringe until all they have left is to turn right and chew away: sweet sonic. Harsh reality, time passed quickly and he became the living evidence. A wide range to cover and conquer. Brace for the birth of Cocoa Sola.
How can you understand when you think time goes by the ways of the watch? Keep hold but free loose. Of course, the ground shook when the aliens came to earth. Foreigners of some kind, they enlightened those who choose to look with their already acquired powers. The aliens did not call it power, but as usual, folks can never phantom the light beyond the wires.
Their cars crashed on the covers that protect those from their own nightmares. Hovering in a singular pattern. Resonating uncalculated sounds. Those who remembered came out and spoke freely to the unhinged figures. The mind most lost could have been preventable if only the saying became a living proof.
The people saw forward and back without living here and there. The new anthem is: Real is fear. The description is in the lessons not the flowing down of necks. The taste is strong when the garnishing is left to those who refuse sweetness. Mixing chemicals failed the professor so he threw away all he had worked for. It rained and he wished for her to be here with him.
The girl was a sting, a second after. Drifting quietly inwards, the incitation chants rang deep till the dreams of a Lion was fully told. Now onto ink and matta.
Swollen Intermission, red eyes. Yes they know you now, fully blooded they call him. Always painted, they pointed. Agreed, but my infinite vision is beyond you definite thinking. Growth by each word; powers born to rage full in bright red.
My Arrival; hence the mission to bring a new world in this green and already recycled world.
Residing tide, reincarnated man
The suit lasted and lasted till it became pale in red. The origins of the man in red. Bathed with elevation, he was lifted with many more in-nights.
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