Roses Of The Trickled Bush

The man's sanity was the only thing he couldn't claim in life that was not how it simply went, the only thing he could claim in life was the jaws of his inhumane deranged acts that still left him wondering about his existence, in his tricked rose bush a one that questioned him no matter what the cost was. But why?, what was his rose bushes motivations and goals?, was it to psychologically tear every single aspect of him self with the dolls of the damned the ones that were uneasy and not soft of philsophy.

The dolls well there eyes silked of the valley that was ettonnant in every single plain gruelling detail an grotesque chef's kiss masterpiece perhaps. Their intentions were quite vague just like his trickled rose bush they questioned himself just like rose bush perhaps they were all trickled with the jaws of morality, morality was an really trickled subject to humanity though.

Dolls weren't all he could give an token of grief for it was his egos he slipped easily in the skin of in the most uncomfortable fashion possible, he perhaps knew that he always played one and that is life was just filled with it he even rambled about it in his desolated room of madness the one he can only bear to witness one last time til the trigger gets pulled.