My silence echoes across the chasms of Hades, where rabid entities claw at my soul with eyes like splintered rocks and a presence of tangible blackness.
Deafening is this sight of transformation, and I am unable to resist the aroma of tactile experience.
Unfortunately, I am ignorant as I have never metamorphosed nor spread my wings from the shell of the cocoon.
However, madness of the central nervous system is a condition which can result in hydrophobia, especially where sacramental water is concerned.
Therefore, how relative is time in this black hole of confirmed epistemological doubt?
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
My silence echoes across the chasms of Hades, where rabid entities claw at my soul with eyes like splintered rocks and a presence of tangible blackness.
Deafening is this sight of transformation, and I am unable to resist the aroma of tactile experience.
Unfortunately, I am ignorant as I have never metamorphosed nor spread my wings from the shell of the cocoon.
However, madness of the central nervous system is a condition which can result in hydrophobia, especially where sacramental water is concerned.
Therefore, how relative is time in this black hole of confirmed epistemological doubt?
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