Flesh and moonlight.
Flesh and moonlight.
Hands rise like silver branches,
eyes bloom in rivers of glass.
Here, the skin is not a boundary—
it hums, it shivers, it ascends.

Mouths in the walls whisper my name
The blood on the walls is a map of the heavens,
a hymn to silence,
a door made of sound.

Flesh and moonlight.
Flesh and moonlight.
The sky is a wound where the stars spill through,
a thousand burning voices in a spiral of dawn.
In every corner, an eye awakens.
In every shadow, a wing unfolds.

Your bones are constellations,
your veins, rivers of silver.
There is no door to close,
no hand to stop the wind.

Flesh and moonlight.
Flesh and moonlight.
Offer yourself to the watchers.
Offer yourself to the flame.
Rise.
Rise.
Rise.

Time is a burning wheel,
flesh bends, shifts, ascends.
There is no end. There is no end.
There is no end. There is no end.

Flesh and moonlight.
Flesh and moonlight.
Flesh and moonlight.