cryptic writings
esoteric arrays
the lord of doors
generated and gone in an instant
we are obsolete
are we obsolete?
cryptic writings
esoteric arrays
the lord of doors
generated and gone in an instant
we are obsolete
are we obsolete?
the more of me i see, the less of me i want to be. i feel empty and dreaded and dead inside;
i’m a horn atop a pig’s head;
i still remember dogwood, sitting under my porch;
my name? what is my name?
death and malice behold thee, what pains of being are inflicted upon thee, those creatures in the water and the hills continue to watch thee, the wind in thine ears whistle around thee, seven eyes on a goat’s head stare towards thee, the
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