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Spark-less brown, eminent collection of rot,

lost art, cleanse the offering

tempt the lost

Lucid liquid filling the lungs, to peak

Mummified existence of the mung

The dark released...

Soul calmed,

Breath is over

Slow heart

Septic coma, the pain

Enter once, no return from the moistened fate

Spawned larvae venting decay

Wet touch, melting the loins away

Dawn's darkness, mental dismay

Every step is external

Every breath soaked inferno

Omnipresence, cloaked by disease

Sharp sepsis holds the key

The swamp has me shown no pity

I don’t expect it to start

The swamp has me shown no pity

My death becomes its art

Bury my soul within the mud

So I can feel the warmth of hatred

Melt my skin as I become

One with the bog of leeches

I crave its infection

Other worldly protection

I now crave its infection

Until my soul transcends sin

Stretch my skin, becoming kin

The infrastructure lost within

Moisture whispers as I bleed

Clawed inscriptions as I read, to bloom