You start forgetting
the absence of
existence. Wishing to remain
dead for sometime― to see what you did't
want to see in the hands of god.

A tricky aura
overlaps the consciousness―
of proxy war. Someone
cries out for the earth's hug.
Wolves start howling. This
was a stainless ******.

I get nightmares. Craft
slips from the tongue. You
must decide for yourself, who
was a clean angel. Door was
locked, key in your pocket.
You cannot move in the absence of proof.

I told you, we are heading
towards the Apocalypse.