It was the sanctified halls of the fleshless ones, for those of purity
were only of inner form. No eyes did ever gaze upon anything of consequence, embrace was for the weak. As all was grasped with
white palms feeling nothing between hollow digits.

But in this abomination of existence, flesh was thesin of being unclean, un-pure in its form. Others did wonder at its true trepidation of why
it was looked on in such revulsion.It was in many shades but the few lingered on its true purpose of existence in this world of bone.

Flesh was like silk gloves as one tried its fit upon the cold form,
and as it weaved upon them in moist closeness they for a moment felt the coldness of there existence in this enticing form,
but to touch upon sin is to be consumed by it as it started to cohere
to more of this cold form till all was submerged in the flesh.

hands baring all those yesterday's, black the tie dye skulls without a bone to cross delicate impositions undressed to bleed into a
maple syrup disguised by the very tears of a corpses dream.

With thoughts that forgot to function for a thousand years, the rain would pour and clouds would be pedestals for lightening to shed
their load while  I'm stood in another boundary interrogating my
heart of stone.

unprivileged destined to absorb a nightmare envious because it never lived, it's breaths didn't even step past the word go how can I ever forgive a mist created especially by him

A demon in a fur coat resembling that one sheep on that abandoned Field, how can I push down those barriers when rivers guide me to a dead end an existence where life meets death and war is nothing compared to this.

a poisonous piece of ******* placed in one corner of my head just to tease, sending my words haywire swinging through the trees in a deep dark wood where answers are painted with the insides of an insects eyes and I

I am tied down to a patch of haystacks where witches gave up to
the insane frogs, where tires met tracks hiding my footprints in the acidic rain.

And the world never spun around on its axis again before my
form fell like weaker contemplations on a acidic wording that
feed upon my flesh. New born now devoured in diluted form.

Words where jittered from a form unknown to all, and we
descended upon each like a swarm of locusts. flesh the delicacy
of what our eyes now saw between these flesh suits falling.

We were the forest of white oak, strong in our joined reflections
now indifferent solitary only thinking of a singular moment
not of that which grew in pale comparison before.

We spent our emotions on tears of crimson as others not heading
to this inevitable reality of what had encompassed all. We were
wicker men burning from the inside, ash in form of absent reflection.

with wooden erections piercing right through where it matters ,blood clots defining our footprints ,our tattered feelings implanted upon a bespoke dress created for that very monster wanting to impress.

Wanting to conquer one and all within a form that was not wanting,
but now encompasses every fibre that now bleeds. For each dies on
this twilight reborn once again it to a hollow unfeeling form.