#c-mc

My hands have dripped of blood, yet they are the only ones I trust completely.

One day, we will meet again, in a different empire, in a different time, you —my cosmic mettle, know this, we are but atemporal, we are eternal.

How will you escape, if you know that you are the chaos ?

As if death opened its arms, again, smelling of roses.

I have tasted death twice, it has left a mark on my tongue. I have been its spectrum, its compulsion, its weakness, its appetite. I fear no oblivion, for the scar of abyss floats within the cadence of my pulse.