Short Shorts Shot Short

So much blues, you can see the ocean on his face. Drowning but supernova calm, that's the spirit. Gallimaufry soul, in Tartarean trenches shovellin'. Chronos, for Chronos, shovellin' seconds in the sol, minutes in the solstice. Solar flare, vandablack egg punctured, earl in the grave, Ls whisper: Pour some red wine, colour your mind redrum. Murder swimming in the desert, just take a deep plunge into the sand. Its grains play games, why bother trying to win? Window into the soul of the crows, can you see those eyes glinting cold? Death's calling, life's affairs are rowing away but you should stay at the shore(stay). Just suffocate your will to live like the wind does to a fish. Then fish for a rope. Time to hang out.