1285.

The perfect fodder
for destruction to get feet
and thus momentum.

1284.

A confused state of
play, when safety becomes a
steady presumptive.

1283.

Who saves the soul when
the owner is intended
as the killer too?

1282.

The machines inside
left to a persistent stage
of a forced drowning.

1281.

A will persists in
terms of destruction here. Spears
turned inward, stabbing.

1280.

We are all fools in
this heart's design of constant
beating. Masochist.

1279.

Just a mask of need
cast to imagination
and desperate hope.