Hunter of Apocalypse
The Universe is Hers. Once realised. Oh, Hunter of Apocalypse, would you recognise. A Spot, a Colour, a Scent. A sparkling sense of beauty in her eyes. Glory, when she is expressed, in fullness, with acceleration, with joy. We're glad we have been there, by any chance, today. Recognising Universe in Her. One man has posed but just a bit, as mans sense is different than hers. We loved it, dearly, we enjoyed and Elijah has conquered with his newly obtained Bow and Gluey Arrowas, you could not recognise him, Oh, Hunter of Apocalypse, oh Man, oh Man, oh Man. Please allow me be your friend. Oh festival of colour, body, arts and attributions!