through possession killing their killers with these hands, my hands. To grant me their visions, their last seconds from the world, it's not dreams I wake from
A dark obsession with her frail form, laid upon this table. Eviscerated with surgical precision, lacerated far beyond infinity. A thousand hearts to
Forsaken in past passages. Told through the eyes of legends. The seed of the one who has been cast down and spawned within this last hope. From this
I write in times of wars and worries for I set out to do battle with the likes of your past. I engage in this onslaught with only my bare hands. Clawing
Nails seem to rain from the sky. A curse upon the common man. To be chosen to disrupt this harmony. An honor only to the spiteful, the heartless, and
Two fingers hold a light, that in time will filter out all the bad times. Cherishing a nourished future, holding onto letting go. Saltwater expressions