Doors of skeletons and closeted fears, framed insecurities warn down for years. Beds of monsters, talons in the dark, creeping closer making its mark. Sluggish bodies and pots gone stale, moulding diseases, where strong bodies fail. Salivating hounds and sharpening teeth, kettle of fluids that drink underneath. Clusters of death and moans of life, try to escape but Instead twist the knife.