my eyes are no longer spouts.
they are steel made of lost consciousness.
and as for the well
it has been taken by dunes of soot
and this,
this milky shadow.
disgust flowing slowly through my flesh as time drags me by my eye lids.
screams from above,
yelling from their crystal lungs
"save yourself"
loudness without understanding as they quickly dissipate
and I am taken
turned to shade
black lightning slowly strikes, like the way liquid finds it's path down glass.
all the exit signs have burnt out and caught fire.
this flood of abysmal embers that glow white, but also black.
and the stygian bolts that cast shadows within and all around.
I am very much dead, but with breath
and with each, I seep.

poem or plea?