Fertile Descent
This finger points to the pain This finger points to the neck These fingers point to the sky These fingers point to the colours These fingers grabbing my hand These fingers touching my veins These fingers stroke the floor These fingers pick the scabs No colours no face No blood no games No light no sound No thought shining bright We will never know the depth You will never know the soul We don't have the keys We don't have the ideas But the ground is real
Submitted by NecroGod — Jun 08, 2026
The white mouth devours all Its jaws crushing and mangling Its lips moving in cosmic rotation Its tongue protruding the threshold The white mouth swallows all Its teeth shredding the fabric Its throat compelling the body Its being defined by the light A white mouth devours all A white light moving A white light seeping A white light overcoming A white light A white light A white light A white light
Submitted by NecroGod — Jun 08, 2026