Do not be afraid of me,
We are all but creatures,
Flesh and bone molded from mud,
Sculpted perfectly imperfect,
Impulses are nothing but challenges,
So, little one, **** me if you must,
I’ll find you once I roam for long enough,
Imperfections exacerbated into anger.

Taking faltering steps as you stare,
Into a formless form that only peers,
Curious but no more wary than a neutered cat,
Turn your fingers to daggers, stab through its flesh.

Now, don’t be afraid of me,
You’ve tidied up your own deathbed,
As the impossible, possible, completely lost control,
Cascades through your fragile mortality,

And you just can’t help but to scream,
Your voice carries into the eons,
The scream resonates through four planes,
Intersecting now as the axis splits.

I can feel your fear,
Your blood pulses red, then blue, then absence,
Nothing matters when you’re only just matter,
A tattered speck of dust left out to settle,
Until the wind picks up and you’re sent,
Like a letter to your final destination,
I can’t feel your fear anymore.