As two figures merge languidly

I notice blacker forms - just as alive

If wonder turns to horror gradually

One might be inclined to strip the gun

Look inside the walls--

Quite the turbulent perpetual motion machine

When the lights get dimmer

The teeth tend to glow

Your skin burns, peels--

Thickened but obsessed

Pruned in acid

The fires have run their course

But forfeited a choice

To circumvent rebirth;

Your insides now must burst

Now, within the glow of the haunting

See your smoldering essence

Mixed with the false god’s ether

No use for a mirror

The last flickers gesture to leave this room or die

Something in the way that you burn

Makes it feel good to learn

Something in the way that you burn

There’s something, I just can’t put my finger on it

I no longer bow to death

My requiem now awakens me for that supernova god machine

Shit

I am

I am aware now

My new, lucid addiction