Feral animation, what Hellscape did you sidestep from? Seer of the future with broken mirrors, Black Murderess, cede my words. I label you Pariah, Lord of lies, how do you describe misery with just two words. “V” of Black Swans, on your grid, I swear to the razor I will truncate the hate out of that barless prison you call a heart. Many years have mastered me and my wisdom as demented men are varnish on the triptych for all to admire. You are the rose that chose the long-anticipated death, hanged by the neck, stretched out isthmus. My warnings are hissed out loud and leave scars on your decaying body. Devotee to the votive, your lies flail like weapons. Full submission is the fatal seed, so sign the scroll with the blood of the veins. All the dying leaves have fallen to the Earth with their mottled, gray, mold that scents the air. Can there be a brighter death for a piece of me must die. Crack my body open and let the life force run out. Shun the deep, turbulent waters as my tears cleanse the wounds. The lock is ready for the key and if the dawn never breaks and my spirit is not crushed by frigidity, Dark Oasis, like a rusty coin I will become someone else with eons of time.