Ritualist

There are

days

when you could just materialize

WINGS

and other

days

when you feel the

WEIGHT

from your

head

pull you to the

CORE

of the world.

Regardless of where you go

you can still feel your

TOES

singe from the

FLAMES

of hell.

No amount of antidote can

bring you anywhere

NEAR

the oblivion you seek.

The feeling of

NOTHING.

The feeling that you can no longer care

and

the feeling of singularity.

An

ABERRATION

that disappears with time.

Let

me

go

HOME.