---

This is going to hurt.

Submission always does.

Joining the parade of grief;

an absurd carnival charging onward to the eclipse...

Forward, stumbling  blindly, with high hopes of release

Abyssic relief

Forward!

Reaching forth toward those parasites of atonement

Feeling them burrow deep into vein

Watching the hollowness manifest in unprecedented ways

Even the strongest pillar caves in;

even the iron heart shatters.

The shelter a fortress gives is as weak as the fault in you.

This is going to hurt...

As the end is wont to do.

Forward!

The tunnel of misery tightens to singularity;

The pinpoint brightens...

To illuminate strange doorways

For which my heart yearns

And from where emancipation beckons

I have chosen the endless possibilities

in the abstract of leaving.

Unburdened in darkness and whispering

the promise of absence

I have clothed myself in bitterness;

Unashamed of my nakedness,

undefeated by my will

Gird your loved in armour while yet you wither

Drag the mottled hope from your frame

Given over to the loved

With all limbs thrown to abandon

 and the husk discarded as all lesser things are

The sorrow slowly smothered as an abomination,

and with it I am scourged of my self-disgust;

and suddenly this is a celebration

To gird your loved in armour while yet you wither

Carving my fate with hands of iron

Into linoleum and oblivion

Spraying rust

In rivers

Become floods

Left for you to find

Left for you to curse your sight