---

From within I feel it ripping through

Not ugly, just hungry. Slowly consumed

Fighting back is an act of futility.

So with pride, I wear this hat and

embrace the cold being that I will become

Hand and foot, the shackles, they bind me.

Horrified at their origin.

Imagining the way my seed has diminished

Into the chains of my imprisonment.

It all comes to pass.

He saw the days coming knowing there is

no halt to my ascent.

Yet I lay, with three stones naked and beaten.

And above me, she weeps.

Droplets rain upon my face like fire in my eyes.

Sourced from the fangs of putrefied immorality.

Destruction of worlds, and I will be triumphant.

Yet I lay with three stones, naked and beaten.

Still above me, she weeps