Wapun Meadow i could follow those stylish trends

It was true the argent was being desecrated by some phantasmal hand;
from a less schoolboyish and whimsy role, now performing the theatrical part of some cynic and seething, blighted juvenile accompanied by a hollowing trench of frothy, carmine rage. Something caged in his ribs that imperils to gut it's way out.
deceptively guileless olives descry those two-timed orbs, wax spilt over chin on down their throat — along sidles an ebony strider, the very void of her figure threatening to suck all that is vivid around her — empurple lusters sunkniving his own...

In lieu of losing his head, Astraeus lowers himself on the flowerbed, ears swiveling in the direction of the watchful entities. Would they approach — ? He dare not solve this enquiry himself, and lays in wait for the trio to attract more chaos.