Brett James Dickinson

Open soars, open doors.
Scaling through the bodies' liquid stone.
In black days, he quivers; shocks of smoke and entrances beyond the suns' liquid stone.
I see the second place bodies are dragged and their feet glow dark - An old child stares into the mystical theater and chuckles.
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A Desserts' gritty shoulder, as to the beautiful gardens, is turned with prowess- a badge achieved by the man in black; prowl

The apple as to the sweet ocular virtues, grown in the backyard of a turtle, addicted to the green walls; are fertile and comfortable, but with the mark of a wimpish pig- Big placid Armour
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Within this playground of lost sorrows, there is man standing head deep in star dust sitting with large belly and numerous landings extending, just as his serpent-like tail does.

We will take, balancing over the translucent beam, running across like mad children of the lost ages
Men, take into deep abduction as you travel through earthly friends of Jungle; the female jungle who spins. At time of human mystic- Evolution, say no harms, and take your dive in the abyss.'
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Family is our luv-

Selfish, the One once called me:
I am Selfish because you see nothing
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