#desperationiis

❛ STOP EATING DIRT JESUS CHRIST! ❜

Wirt, ur fellow poet friend is worried abt u

NIGHT COMES, a silent ennemy that slithers as snakes so elegantly do. It falls upon your neck like a GUILLOTINE BLADE and in the blink of an eye, it is already too late : he is lost in those woods, lost on a path he thought he knew. He looks around, but nothing familiar catch his eyes - but what is there to see in the darkness of such a place ? A BLIND guide he is, walking around with hesitation, as an infant scared to fall. But fingers reach him in the black of this night, winded in his hair. Freezing like a statue of ice, he feels upon his shoulder the light of two YELLOW EYES. His blood runs cold, fear poisonning his thoughts : THE BEAST IS HERE.

—— What is left to hear ? Do you deserve my attention ? “ The COLDNESS of his words cuts like the edge of a knife. He lacks the sympathy he once had, for those who are damned are never to be saved. He will not play the part of the forgiver, despite what this SORROW that breaks his permafrost heart asks him to do. No, he shall wear the iron mask of severity Adieu, this respect he so long had. There is no pity to have for a BEAST ! —— You condemned your own self. Repent, and I shall listen. “