the darkest parts of a human soul reveals as rare as a full moon it stands and watches in the cold and silently waits for a dying ghost it takes in all life, deactivating function and throws out the remnants into the void
it comes out when you're used leaving in a flash like the caudacutus avenging the spirits that are cursed for merely laying down their lives breaking more bones than contrived causing darkness to the likes
it leaves trails of red tears on the floor and under water from the lives of the spiritless thinking there couldn't be another but truly knowing in realness that to be saved is not top-drawer
the veracity hurts comparable to the sound of helpless screaming when there is so much possible and choosing not to do a thing