To unplug.

Once upon a ryhme,

an outlet was full of brine.

Twice an age;

too many foot and feet traveled,

withered worn torn and forloned.

Thrice a Titan,

Quadroupled an arm,

became a hug into a crossed crammed weapon to make me into a,

bow

. . club,

. . . sword,

. . . shield,

. . . arms of missile of arrows.

A militarized eyes on that hemisphere;

oh such love of extentsion of what we call the rise.

Once risen a finger,

then thrusted into breathing warm weather,

oh sweet army of bones.

Such madness;

atrocity of all of an undead eyes shadows on a fearful crew;

cometh upon their resting sands.

Mythical;

Fantastical;

Strangeness in the aliveness of fear in the ears of

Jason's left, right, plank and starboard flight crew.

Where is Orestes, Stinking Orpheus still singing,

I should not left that burly Herakles in the arms of a wine,

a wine called.

Forgetfullness.

Twice upon a promise,

a love from the one who rejected and dejected and cut her ties.

Now Mind over numbness of what is,

of what once,

betrayed not by any means.

She said to herself.

I have plugged thineself

I need to unplug thine,

unto nothing and everything.

Love is a course where one

has nothing as discourse,

After people have used all of theirs but not yours.

Why would I,

Marry and conceive an ill notion of what is true and false;

Illusion are all left of it,

because I melded and rewinded my life from it.

Unplug my mind,

plug into the brine.

I will weep like an ocean,

Kronos hear me,

As I cry unto Gaia.

I once was a maid of the love of my mother,

of the night and magic of yours.

I shall come to you.

It is I,

coming home from my heart, into the body of the

art of the mind,

take me as I take myself out of

this 7th terra.

DC or AC.

I unwind from and to.

I thank thee.