The Night Cult Ocuvine Poem by Thomas Kane

No matter the element for induction we many salvage barbarick from foam paste hand in ranch dressing wizzing cheese for its many words/ general patterns dust complexity upon juice spitter vipers and dunglury glory to whom beeth bound for the best in times lost in the maid most of trimes! May bless cling tube sneeze forever was thy war. Drampsul stressers leave he whom hates at the mustard hades burns with works of fire ash may cover my moth a craft forbidden sackened num furders bluff is complesturized plete -Thank Bead Walker