Heartnire

Table! Almost like chair, but table! You can set y'r stuff on it, But just don't sit on it if you're able. Table! Kinda like bench, but table! It can take a bit of beating, But just don't kick it 'cause it's stable. Table! Sorta like desk, but table! They're made of lots of things, like oak, stone, spruce, and even maple. Duh duh duh, dun dun, It's table!

     A vivid myriad of colors, colors which no eye could ever recognize, lay splattered against the canvas of his mind. Like a grand assortment of flowers surrounding a towering spiral, twisting and jaggedly reaching for the sky, threatening to pierce the heavens themselves. This is the representation of his psyche, the unique "flavor" of the lingering, mental energy that psychics leave behind when they make use of their esoteric talents. That, at least, is how other psychics would describe a mind's distinct signature.     He saw things very differently. He was a man who walked- no, danced upon the thin line dividing the unorthodox from the

D --> If one were so inclined to 100k in the wild D --> A lucky troll might find a creature beguiled D --> A fauna majestic with muscles to spare D --> If fortune would have it, perhaps he would share D --> If he moved just an inch, however so slight D --> We could all glimpse upon the beauty of might D --> A feat of great STRONGNESS as he dares to fle% D --> Muscles bulging and stiff, they curve and conve% D --> The veins of his body, that muscles conceal D --> Have come to the surface, past tendons of steel D --> A body so perfect, a charming physique D --> From the arms to the legs and netherly cheeks D --> With incredible STRE