By: Jason C. Newton
Your anticipation builds my exasperation, determination, in the eyes of desperation; verbal ejaculation mixed in with your proclamation. You give false salvation with your masturbation. Alterations given with less concentration. I gave no invitation to your penetration. My obligations are immune to your intimidation, while your motivation is destroyed by my validation. Imbued us with retardation based off your discrimination, alienation builds my aggravation. Moral deterioration gives the implication of your impersonation. Your oral fixation lacks navigation, leading to a representation of your temptation. Indignation, hand in hand with mutilation, where the fuck is my revelation? I need no adaptation of your lowly station. Retaliation brings about your castration, leaving little speculation about your identification. Deterioration and desecration are the observations involved with your fascination with a nations moderation. Your heart, and abomination, leaves very little reconciliation but plenty of mystification. My mortifaction stems from the procrastination of your dedication, so why the patrosination? You're on vacation, giving us little education or examination into your false liberation. Your rationalization lies within your destination, be it our suffocation, or the motivation behind our obliteration. I've look but haven't found . . . the justification behind your reincarnation.
Just what we need . . . another martyr corrupt.
