A Jowling Earted Tribute to Finiliar.

O greddled jurtles, all is turling dromes to thee, Even thy beetle-browed Reason, mordious in meanin‘ she, Like lurgid gabbleblotchits on a drangle bee, Earth and grub, one with another, self-entwining eartedly. Thy blurted dreams of Wholesome, pestulent spaces, In the heart of city filth, where violent memes breed,i Gargling with the rancid groop, in […]