Death found what i hid, in the shallow end of a dream, in the seam of the deepest womb, to scar the fairest wound,
inside the tomb the darkness wreaked, while lucid horrors seep, sleep, ignorant and unknowing, that the creature is growing, growing and never slowing, knowing and never showing that you bare the weight of owing your existence to the thing you've been stowing
Pain it ****** and festers the days fall like like pedals into the sea of no remorse for no one cares what runs its course but it does with and without it's source