Lord of the irons, yet master of none. White hot from the pyre, but the damage is done. The wax has melted; reveal the wick within Begin total bisect. My fingers grip the skin. Blood flows downward when the nails dig in. Scalp detaches; bregmatic cranial split. Self-Schism: The last chance of escape. Devour the hours until darkness is left The mind exposed so the illness can drain. Hemispherical rupture; cerebral chasm remains. Let division continue. Palates and ribs break. Organ partition fall to feed the snakes. Self-Schism: The last chance of escape. Devour the hours until only darkness is left. Only darkness is left. Pace slips from my life. Dread consumes.