Jun 27, 2018
Animus for decline. We feel nothing inside. I love the thought of being bathed in warm crimson silence. Wrist deep in body cavity pungent dripping violence. Rot away with me and lose nothing but our glow. Wither in soil where insects toil. We take nothing with us when we go. Each haunted breath leads you closer to death, and I’ll be there. The ethers of solace. Corrupting your bones, what’s always been known. In the thistles and weeds, the soil doth feed. Slumbering numb you continue to bleed. Morning dew collecting upon glossy dead eyes. Hand in hand. Together. Animus for decline. We feel nothing inside. #AnimusForDecline #rabidbelievers #paulycreepo (at The Ruins Live)
