As turns up again horse and the headless salt of its sink the nil to a null mull. And the gun in basement 12 that weighs a grant and cocks a death rant. Murder for rent trigger trigger. Pounding in heart at the start wore me apart. Best make a run for it. Its listlessness a violent abyss an angel of war death and gore caught in a rage of brute lust and emptiness. Firebird dancing in contempt of time flambeau fugitive in thrall to shine. Grappled by its hooks, tender sheen of mine.