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A username consortium based on
Seba 𔒴 Who took lodgings
in a dilapidated pothole.

────── ◈ Nom-De-Clavier ◈ ──────
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IN SOLITUDE ↓ DOCKED AT AN DILAPIDATED WHEREBOUTS. Appropriately an abandoned pothole at the edge of the hinterland, there were not merely one or two sundries hoarded—but many, even more than one would imagine. Glaringly secluded and found by unusual paraphernalia, not all trudges are able to wander or see through even an eensy-weensy gap.
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The path through many barren tree branches, leaves that prevented seeing what was in edge, even the memorandum that read Proprietary Rights to @ineert, @fukammi, @sonnbet was barely indiscernible, no matter how far they ran / the more it felt close / it didn’t decorous / it was still far away either. It was so tiresome to express fatigue and ask how far away and where the dilapidated pothole actually was to @ineertbot. ♢
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ENCOUNTER OF BEDLAM—MADNESS
UNFURLS CHASM | MOST EPHEMERAL:
@FUKAMMI FINDETH A HOLLOW
’BRACE OF VOID.

Safeguard the citadel of hierarchy and
possession. Wrath brews a paradigm of
profane tongue, birthing a hunger that
devoureth satisfaction. | Arriveth, cradled
embrace that filleth the hollow. Etched
upon the vile chambers pleading thick
and unrelenting. Syllable wrought the
diction of the whole.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(’&.)

Possession returneth, clasping firm
in a vow resolve the @FukamiBot
Haven named sanctuary, keepers
Bequeath each their interpretation.
”I, The Amid Warring Kin—Equity
Bulwark The Sanctum Of Refuge."

     

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                    𝘛𝘖 𝘉𝘌 𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘌 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙
                   🕯   @INEERT’s 𝘖𝘔𝘌𝘕.
           (Till the decayed archway eroded
            —as it took absolute possession.)

I no longer relied on the ruined crates, it would be more beneficial for me to mend the shelter beneath my sanity. Here still had damp barriers, plenty of mosses scattered with no any gaps. So I tightened my ventures through digging for a solution within the unnamed gravel, yet my wits didn’t want to be dismissive as an intricate phrase wreathed my soul. “Cast aside your futile concerns, shall you take up the chore of sanctifying your milieu and confining @Sebav safely.” In the meanwhile this faith was anchored to something odd at once, perhaps for the sake of a scarce thing so I could sacrifice this clever perception I had long fostered. Then as was foreseeble, I barely conceded the place I had been brooding over.

                 Red Tussle, Vacant Juncture.
              @IneertBot: 20th Prophecy.

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