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when we’re gone no record of what we said to the distant dying stars we’re already dead |
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i want a damsel to un-distress i want to face the foaming hungry demon horde |
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it’s funny when the pawns think they run the game it’s laughably naive when they give each other names |
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there's a hound in the moonlight aware of my blood a skeletal crew on the dark rising flood |
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the stench of entrails follows me the soot of burning bones in the fabric of my robe |
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pulled from the warmth of my mother sought to breathe was taught how to smother |
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every day the ground shifts below me every hour another fire blooms |
