Beehoover Paraffin Oiler
between those liquid walls and more than a thousand degrees are tidal waves reaching for the highest stone and a soul smelling like his child the light a flicker of hope through the heavy spray but wonders never cease this peak his umbilical cord those waves are a sword a vale of fire is what he needs to protect himself from the frost of the deadly deep sea sinking to the bottom and deservedly so even if deck is under water even if the end is nigh to the bitter end we are illuminated by the light at his heart's rate or the other way round like fleshy driftwood flooded down to the ground of the sea this peak his umbilical cord those waves are a sword a vale of fire is what he needs to protect himself from the frost of the deadly deep sea sinking to the bottom and deservedly so maybe it's better to turn the blood into paraffin and become a human torch laughin' do you see the human torch at the horizon no? it looks like a rising sun but it isn´t one
