Gaunt, slipping through time, evading notice.
Buried alive, a small comfort, exaltation of terra firma.
Gauntlets equipped, not unlike shackles, once more into the fray.
Unearthed, foul arcana preserving an empty husk, begging for rest in moans.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 10:16 AM UTC
Gaunt, slipping through time, evading notice.
Buried alive, a small comfort, exaltation of terra firma.
Gauntlets equipped, not unlike shackles, once more into the fray.
Unearthed, foul arcana preserving an empty husk, begging for rest in moans.
What's in my head?
23rd of February, 2018.
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