Consumption

No sleek, slippery surfaces could appose the cove can hold.
 Where truth
                                                   lies
                                                           - Allies combine - warped confessions disguise pink mold (rather bold) that'll grant legends told.
Curtains they buy,
hidden stark-slander along spangle banners.
"When do whirling doves escape gates forsaking
entrances
with no black box mistaking?"
the Wolf-Skinned Sheep yowled to whitened
yellow musks drenching him.
But all was clenching it,
No Man's sky couldn't cry - leaves began dried - angels sighed
as the Wolf-Skinned Sheep scowled
and turned towards themed crowds.

What leftovers sustained were melancholy gain
for Media's reign.