a white haired woman in arms.
"Soul, soul, let's kiss like they're dead, "
" wei vant to fight. they're dead...!..."
I was see-ing the highest lights, I was kruerk von abad, I soared into hatred....think, think 'doing'.;
a jewish soul in a german bride, you are white heaven. That woman wanted God, and so did you and so, you were King.
- you thought you were time-travel, so you wanted to collect photos, clothing, trinckets...wicked, you went wicked, the photo, of you gasping, open mouth full of blood, in the arms of a weirdly and why, smiling woman, not lovingly holding you, but a little like she was showing her pet-dog, blood flowing down his face, holding him up to smile at the camera also, like smiling and exhibiting you for the camera, as though you were her happy-child, not a thin, choking, blood-covered victim, of a beating, of a beating for a photo collection.
And you wanted revenge, you wanted to make sure she was in hell, and then you saw her shake and gasp, and you wanted her out of hell, you died wickedly.
You said, let her sleep, go where-ever she is meant to go. just forget, but you were in shock, not in shock of the photo, which had to be looked at, intellectually, "that was hurting me, power, power to avenge..." You where in shock, of what was happening to her soul.
You said: "Have you got the photos? Throw everything there away now...."
Because before you wanted that collection, you thought of it alot, more than that, you wouldnt think of anything else, like Hero,like a spell of heights...
just that weird uniform.