I am a monster of my own creation, yet Unnamed. I'm the doctor and the beast he wrought. My face is wan, and eyes sunken; Strong and capable, but fated for destruction. Come, wave your flaming rods and I'll run for the hills. Find me a cave where I can sit in a viscous black tar silence. Ears to knees pulsing from what adorns me These fears like trinkets, leaden filigree spell them out.
But fear is an anxious heat and a flirt. I'm drawn into a seductive reunion with the chilled ground. If you're lonely you may visit and behold this undoing. "More weight!" I'll scream, until my bones are white ash and my organs are muddy puddles and I can, at last, declare I've accomplished something.