---

Hardened... like when the fresh air burns the lungs

And spiraling harvests coagulate the mind that's rotting away

Thoughts within soil, from within the forms as such

Behind Death's realms of Earth-bound souls

Forever (caught) in a past that never happened

Astral trepanation yields transcendental ecstasies

And woes of frigid distance no longer feel so far - but within reason, though out of reach

Through the doors we each must travel - different markings either side

Without knowing the different colors of each beast's aura

Predisposed inertias propagate alien histories

As timelines weave between them while you sleep