when a lonely child loses it to the moon
now we're all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise
Gathering fallen limbs of masters past 'til mind's eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root.
I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night.
The never ending frost plumed night.
Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again.
Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night.
One last dance amongst the embers.
To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come.
For this blood, the end of the line.
Echoing chamber of void.
It's all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping.
Oh the fucking weeping.
I could almost cry.
Shut up and get in the ground.
The worms aren't complaining - they'll make a hearty meal of yours.
If you don't yet know the drill, well i'll fill you in.
It's a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go.
A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit's just not level.
Always angling towards Hell.
Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall.
Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition.
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