test -- 13d's own testing board

as corrupt faith is my cross

the romance of naive iniquity! it has such a bittersweet, unfathomed caliginosity about it, and that enthralls my eye, so that as a child pursuing pretty baubles puppeteered from the torn skies, i run, into the arms of my destiny, the ultimate entrapment. i care not for the desperate portents that the tattered victims of the past shriek out to the gods, petty idols as they are; i follow only my heart and my lush soul, which is the instrument of my personal deities, whom i guard jealously to myself. barbed is my tongue and sharp is my eye, and i am no one but my own.

as corrupt faith is my cross

stilting one leg underneath the other with an unaccustomed awkwardness atrociously contradictory to her precocious-shining hazel eyes, magnolia reconnoiters her capabilities with scrupulous care. stumbling with inherent exigency to her mother, she moves a slender muzzle to the faucet from which her life's nourishment flowed. rapturously, she sucks until satiated, whereupon she turns with eerie astuteness to give the world a belligerent stare, insanely hypocritical, for she stands in the coolly reassuring shadow of her mother, the queen of the night's plutonian shore.

i vow

exquisitely built, she follows after her dam in innumerable minutiae, from the delicate twist of the twin lobes atop her sensitive little head to the still-damp brush of a caudal appendage. still, her friesian blood asserts itself subtly in a various number of methods, most notably her slightly more substantial build. bequeathed from both her parents is that blood-curdling sable of her coat, and the stygian tincture seems only to become darker with each generation. yet, lamp-like, her eyes stare with barely-tempered inquisitiveness into the night, responding to each phantasm's call with a bubbling inward chuckle of her own, and scorning the despairing siren's cry to turn to her own newborn fantasies. lifting her head in bold recalcitrance, she is quite prepared to stare down the world - but a scuttle at her feet, a diminutive rodent's hasty retreat into the foliage, and its accompanying, high-pitched chortling is enough to bring a shrill squeal of distress and bewilderment to the bold young conqueror. backing up precipitously, her little rump smacks into the larger form of her mother, and on the verge of yelping piteously, she whirls about to face this new challenge. as the adult registers, she could almost be heard sighing with amateurishly charismatic relief. moments later, the entire jaunt had been forgotten, and magnolia was prepared to launch a new conquest over her newly discovered sphere again.

my tears will not be in vain