| red_glare_hills | ||
| z | and plumes of fire laced smudges are stitches in the tangled shapes over dark-torn rot in deep tree forrest sung by infinitude of dying frogs and the wind punishes all ripping through the inky places and tearing the pillars of fire into the sky's cataract to slowly infect the looming clouds and the place where the sun shines through is a gash | 131116 |