---

They dwell somewhere in sulfurous womb of forgotten remnants.

Soaking the echos of my agony.

Every their breath dissolves their identity.

Their skin is venomous, but not corporeal.

All i see is mulyfication.

And as decomposed tombstones start to suffocate in miasmatic ether,

My body melts into its shape.

Found in their own restlessness, they oath to stay drowned.

Delusional integrity.

I feed on pleasure of own decay.

It smells a fresh blood,never spoiled by life.

So immature.

Sweet to soak.

I hear it flowing wetly beneath the skin.

The faint smell of a wind,paralyzing feelings.

Turning your airless life into a phantom tombstone.