I feel myself falling into a deep depression.
It takes a hold of my soul and is dragging me into...
Grasping limbs
in deep soil...
Prolific abstinence of any
train of pure thought reflected in...
Twisted mortal of an ebony sky
deathly creatures transform...
Intersection
-Descending...
The cloud is blackened,
night; a pitch fork sting...
Her voice is like venom, death to hearing
a deafness still, calms a spirited soul...
Wicked iris's lurking,
dungeons smolder in...
What make a person a person?
A soul...
In the world that's full of faults
And tattered souls washed with salts...
Lying became my truth,
it worked with the past, present and future...
Sitting alone, in an empty room
No windows, no light...