Photo by Filip Zrnzević on Unsplash
I feel a tyrant when I veil the fire
And hail the silence just to rail behind it
Like toltec vices it's so laconic when I sulk in vomit under totem pylons
Worthless downpours pale comparisons
In stale it's salient really barren sick and situated below sanctity
All alien I'm ail again my fallacies are fallowed seeking sabbath in a callous beaming gallow dream
An astral seam will sew below the towers and the clocks of yharnam beasts
I took a skull so I could skulk in peace
Scrolls in pieces speak of eaten tongues and lungs releasing toxins
Bleeding dermis fleeting waves deceased beneath it
Waste is seized in demonstration demon straits are deeming greys and violet hues my new maroon
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