Reverberated images lost in the erratic nothingness of perpetually rearranging characters that never have real names only incoherent roles that are never defined, regardless of intention there is no attention to detail as this twisted mind continues its downward spiral into a world only it can truly understand, masks worn not out of choice cut out of necessity because this is the only thing that remains of who or what you are, a disgruntled voice in the darkness of a nevermore that shows no forgiveness, languish in this copy of a world you will never know for in its shape filled curves I am YOUR KING!
Shape The Plastic Mask Into Something More Fitting And Brand New – Wrapped In Words
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Twisted Roads - Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks 
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