Aftertaste 1 1/2

And they die There exists a colossal figure Born in dimensions Cared or forgotten What does it raise of us... Love and rage Outlined behind clouds Visible yet far away Loom grabs the careless The occurence lasts and lasts Or it's nonexistent Death creates again Undevelopment in reality Forever unable to crush Constant grotesque being is sentenced Touch doesn't condemn or help Those are theirs, ours Piercing us with pity Spiritual black clouds And everything such vividly

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026