To die for... 💀
Army of sand thrives around you
wilderness of silent solitude
And her look that holds everything
Follow you to your tent
Dull light shrouds the room
Fire turns blond to brown
Proboscis ring in to the sound
That the man in the poppy field sang
You are hold for life
Keturah to Abraham
You are hold all your life
Keturah to Abraham
And your king lets you lead
You already know where
If two thousand elephants
Draw through your bloodstream
Loud into the night
Beats a heart of ivory
It betrays the army of sand
What the man found in the poppy field
You are hold for life
Keturah to Abraham
You are hold all your life
Keturah to Abraham
And your king lets you lead
You already know where
If two thousand elephants
Draw through your bloodstream
And your king lets you lead
You already know where
If two thousand elephants
Draw through your bloodstream
And your king lets you lead
You already know where
If two thousand elephants
Draw through your bloodstream
And your king lets you lead
Because you are queen
If two thousand elephants
Draw through your bloodstream
——
Heer aus Sand um Dich gedeiht
Wildnis stummer Einsamkeit
Und ihr Blick, der alles hält
Folgt Dir bis in Dein Zelt
Dumpfes Licht verhüllt den Raum
Feuer färbt das Blond zu Braun
Rüssel tönen ein zum Klang
Den der Mann im Mohnfeld sang
Hold bist Du ein Leben lang
Keturah dem Abraham
Hold bist Du Dein Leben lang
Keturah dem Abraham
Und Dein König lässt Dich leiten
Du weißt schon wohin
Wenn zweitausend Elefanten
Durch Deinen Blutkreis zieh'n
Gellend in die Nacht hinein
Schlägt ein Herz aus Elfenbein
Es verrät dem Heer aus Sand
Was der Mann im Mohnfeld fand
Hold bist Du ein Leben lang
Keturah dem Abraham
Hold bist Du Dein Leben lang
Keturah dem Abraham
Und Dein König lässt Dich leiten
Du weißt schon wohin
Wenn zweitausend Elefanten
Durch Deinen Blutkreis zieh'n
Und Dein König lässt Dich leiten
Du weißt schon wohin
Wenn zweitausend Elefanten
Durch Deinen Blutkreis zieh'n
Und Dein König lässt Dich leiten
Du weißt schon wohin
Wenn zweitausend Elefanten
Durch Deinen Blutkreis zieh'n
Und Dein König lässt Dich leiten
Denn Du bist Königin
Wenn zweitausend Elefanten
Durch Deinen Blutkreis zieh'n
@darksilenceinsuburbiareloaded @derflaneur 😭
2000 Elefanten by Die Wilde Jagd 🐘 👑
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i’m not like an incest shipper (although like yeah me and 10k other people shipped wincest in 2013) but the more i see people absolutely losing their minds over the concept of fictional incest the more i laugh like come the fuck on now like this trope is quite literally hundreds of years old and we’re acting like it was invented by fanfiction writers. “richard siken condones incest” “ethel cain condones incest” you mean the artists who write about the rotten and the wretched and the unhealthy and the abusive enjoy digging into fictional relationships that are just that. have you lost your goddamned minds. do you ever read anything except for steven universe fanfiction. like could you handle a 12th grade english lit module on the god of small things.
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If you were to ask Gojo Satoru who his first kiss was, he would always say it was you - making everyone at the dinner table, party, or bar look up at him with dreamy eyes while mouthing small awws and oohs to match.
And you’d sit there in silence, listening to him tell that blatant lie as your face grew red and your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, knowing that he had, in fact, kissed many girls before; whether they pressed their lips to his in high school parties, or grinded against him in clubs until finally shoving their tongues in his mouth; he had already done it plenty of times before he had ever laid eyes on you.
But on some drowsy night, when the thought first popped in his head, he muttered the words into the air like a prayer, “You know you were my first kiss, right?”
And he pouted when you laughed at what you felt was the nth joke of the day, until he started softly explaining that each kiss before you had never felt like what a kiss was supposed to be like; That when for the first time you finally found the courage to grab his face and press your lips to his, he knew the true terror of kissing. How he was scared that his tongue was too deep in your mouth even though he wanted to push it deeper and deeper, and how when you smiled against his lips, his stomach did cartwheels for hours after it ended.
“You don’t get to choose these things, Satoru.” You reprimanded, but never corrected him once.
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